Pale Riders
by chromeknickers
Summary: The world is in ruin. Man stands alone at a precipice: to fall into the abyss of evil or to rise above his own nature. It is the dawn of a new and frightening era. Lives will be lost, beliefs will be challenged, and hope may yet be rekindled.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** Rated R for graphic violence, adult themes, and post-apocalyptic content. Read at your own discretion. (And please bear with me as this is my first time writing post-apocalyptic fiction _and_ my first time using AmE.)

I'd like to thank Kim (Boogum) for beta-ing this for me on such short notice and Trippy41 for making a fanmix and coverart for the story. :)

* * *

**PALE RIDERS**

"_I looked, and behold a pale horse: _

_his name that sat upon him was Death, _

_and all Hell followed with him."_

~ Revelation 6:8

**CHAPTER 1**

**PAST: OCTOBER 15, 1998**

"Don't close your eyes," her father admonished in her ear, as he hunkered down beside her in the brush.

A young buck was grazing in the cornfield not some hundred yards away; its velvet antlers peaked above the tall green husks. The little girl of twelve held the .30-06 Remington rifle steady in her hands and watched as the morning dew dripped down the deer's antlers, listened to the wind whistle through the trees, and felt her heart beat in her chest. It was time.

"B-but, in the movies the guy always closes his right eye," she whined, but opened both eyes nonetheless.

Her father adjusted the iron sights carefully and shifted back onto his haunches.

"This ain't the movies, darlin'," he said, his gruff voice barely above a whisper.

The buck raised its muzzle, sniffing the air, alert and searching. The little girl and her father remained silent and unmoving until the deer resumed its meal.

"You need both eyes open to see a moving target—but not just yer prey, yer surroundings too. You always have to be aware, Slugger."

The afternoon sun beat down on her brow, causing beads of sweat to trickle down her temples and hang precariously on her lashes. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as though put on pause. Swallowing hard, she positioned herself in place and raised her rifle, eyes wide open. The buck shook its coat, dirt and hair flying, and she aimed for its upper ribs. The rifle shook in her hands, and she closed her eyes.

"Daddy, I can't."

"Yes, you can," he encouraged softly, holding her shoulders steady. "Aim for the heart, the lungs—kill 'im in one shot."

It would die quickly, painlessly, if she knew what she was doing—if she saw the bullet hit home. Resolved, she opened both eyes and aimed.

_Take in a deep breath and hold it. _

_Hold it ... _

_Fire!_

* * *

**PRESENT: OCTOBER 15, 2017**

The sound of the shot reverberated throughout the valley; the gunfire crackled loudly in her ears, singing its last swan song—a frequency never to be heard again. She had worn earplugs in the beginning, but such commodities nowadays were scarce, a bygone luxury of a bygone era. She would suffer the hearing damage, as would the mangy deer that let out a grunt of air—its last, she hoped—as the wolves scattered to the outlining brush to take cover.

Penny put up her .30-30 Winchester and stood to her feet, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun. Slowly, she began to walk toward her quarry—her pace even and steady with purpose—reloading as she went. The hard dirt crunched beneath her boots as she followed the line of her own shadow. Once finished reloading, she looped the strap attached to the butt of the rifle over her head, slinging the Winchester alongside her back. She then pulled out a black and silver Ruger from one of the holster's slung across her hips and loomed over the deer. It wheezed pitifully as it tried to stand, feebly kicking its legs in the air. She had shot it in the lungs, but the damned thing was determined to live; like a human, it vainly clung to life. Squaring her shoulders, Penny pointed the pistol between its eyes.

One bullet was all it took, reporting soundly in her hands. There was no breath afterward, no kick. She gave the beast rest, whether it wanted it or not. Death and peace at the end of a smoking barrel. It was mercy at its cruelest, but it _was_ mercy.

Her daddy had taught her the finer points of mercy and how to fire a weapon when she was only ten. He had given her a modest .22 LR for her birthday, only to be used for picking off rats and other vermin in the barn and cornfields. She had become quite skilled with the weapon—a marksman, of sorts—and it pleased her daddy to no end. She had never been too good at sports; to be quite frank, she didn't like getting dirty. But she was good at shooting, good at _killing_. Her daddy had called her a natural—an eagle eye able to shoot a tick off a deer's hindquarters. It was one of the few things in life that Penny had ever been good at. If only her father could see her now ...

"You shouldn't waste bullets," came a chastising voice from behind.

Penny holstered her pistol and turned around, giving the man in front of her a calculating look. He was tall and lean, dressed in dark dusty denims, a collared cornflower blue shirt, and a short brown leather jacket. On his hips were the same double holsters with twin Rugers that Penny wore, but on his back was a sawed-off shotgun—Lupara—his weapon of choice. He wore polarized sunglasses that glinted in the light of the early morning sun, and when he took them off his eyes were a cobalt blue and focused intently on her—scrutinizing as he waited for her answer.

She knew that he was right about the ammunition—he was right about almost everything. However, Penny wasn't willing to admit to that, nor confess to the cold man in front of her that she had killed the deer simply because she couldn't stand to watch it suffer. She had seen so much suffering these past few months and was powerless to prevent it. At least with the deer she could have some sort of closure. The wolves would have their meal eventually, but the deer had gone quietly and less painfully than it would have at the jaws of its enemy. It made her wonder if she would be so fortunate when her time came—if someone would be merciful enough to put a bullet in her brainpan.

"Yeah, well, you can bill me, Sheldon," Penny said bluntly, grabbing her own sunglasses from her breast pocket and putting them on. "We're about to come up to a town in thirty miles. We'll restock for the _two_ bullets that I wasted when we get there."

Sheldon regarded her critically for a moment before scrunching up his nose. Then he shook out his sunglasses and slipped them back on.

"Breakfast is ready," he informed her dully. "We're heading out in fifteen minutes. We should reach Dubuque by noon."

Penny nodded curtly in response. There was no need for idle chit chat. Instead, she followed Sheldon back to the camp: a data bunker in Monticello, Iowa. The ultra-secure subterranean facility had been built years ago to host critical infrastructure and was designed to survive and operate during a major disaster. Obvious calamity withstanding, the bunker was now home to the paltry surviving denizens of Monticello—and the lucky few who knew of its location. Its occupants were also host to Sheldon Cooper's small traveling party, who had spent the past three-and-a-half months journeying northeast across the country from California.

"I don't trust them," Penny growled under her breath, as they approached the entrance.

"Neither do I," Sheldon said in an equally low voice, unhooking the flap to the holster that sheathed his pistol. "That's why we're letting them think that O'Connor's in charge."

At the entrance to the bunker stood two sentries. After punching in the secret code, one of the men opened the door and stepped to the side, allowing Penny and Sheldon to enter. Taking the first set of stairs down, Penny and Sheldon kept their hands ready on their weapons. Their company had been on bicycles when Operator Hanson and his gang had spotted them. The Monticello group had been armed to the teeth and were traveling via truck, which had given Sheldon good reason to pause. It wasn't that vehicles were scarce—or gas, if you knew how to work a manual pump—it was that no one who wanted to live traveled by vehicle. Cars made noise; they alerted your presence to scavengers, to marauders, and to _Them_. _They_ were the ones you wanted to avoid the most, even during the day.

Hanson's group had called themselves survivalists, but to Penny and Sheldon they reeked of something else, something distinctly related to _Them_. That was why Sheldon and Penny often referred to such groups as the Others: people who held congress with "the beast" and were far more dangerous than bandits and cut-throat gangs.

"The hunters have returned," George Hanson announced, as Penny and Sheldon entered the secure room. The younger man welcomed them with outstretched arms and an open smile—a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have to say that I haven't met many people lately who've been willing to venture outside to hunt—and return."

Sheldon and Penny exchanged a brief glance before Penny turned to regard Hanson, feigning her own disingenuous smile.

"We wanted to thank you for your hospitality," she said through gritted teeth. "Fresh meat is so rare to come by these days."

Hanson's grin seemed to widen. "All too true," he agreed, and then pointed back to the other three members of Sheldon and Penny's party. "Stick around and we can clean and dress the animal for you. We could all have it for supper."

Sheldon firmly shook his head and briefly met O'Connor's eyes.

"That's considerate, Mr. Hanson," the elderly priest thanked with an Irish lilt, "but we really must be on our way."

"Heading southeast, right?" Hanson asked O'Connor, but his eyes were narrowed suspiciously on Sheldon. "What's down there, if I might ask?"

"We're hoping to find some leadership in Virginia," O'Connor said with a hopeful smile. "Before the eclipse hit a brother of mine told me that they were forming a large commune: a group of survivalists, much like yourselves."

There had been no such thing—no news from another priest before the attacks began. There had been news, but it was nothing conventional and nothing they'd like to share with Operator Hanson. Sheldon and his party were heading northeast, securing safe houses as they went; telling Hanson and his men that was just as bad as informing them that Sheldon was the man in charge. Sheldon's anonymity was paramount; their survival depended on it.

These were dark days where you did not trust your fellow man, and each man had his side to choose: good, bad or neutral. But there were greater things to worry about—more than scavengers and thieves, more than rapists and murderers, more than the Others. There was _Them_ and you always had to be afraid of _Them_ or else you were a fool.

"But you're working on chance, Padre," Hanson said, still smiling that Cheshire cat grin of his. "You don't know if they'll be there. _They_ could be waiting for you, you know." His pale blue eyes glinted in the lamplight. "You could always stay here where you know it's safe."

O'Connor smiled, cool as a cucumber. "The Lord will protect us. He will provide."

Hansom almost seemed to recoil at these words and looked past the priest, focusing his light blue eyes on Sheldon's.

"You don't seem like a man of faith—" Hanson pointed his thumb back at O'Connor "—not like our man of the cloth here."

Sheldon's mouth twitched and he glanced past Hanson to look at Penny. Her stance was rigid, her spine poker-straight. She looked ready to draw her gun and take out every man in the room—and she would with a single command from him. But Sheldon didn't want that. Instead, he told her to relax with a simple look, and Penny slowly eased up, looking over to Eve and Cecilia. If anything, she had to be cautious for them.

"We're all traveling for our own reasons," Sheldon answered mildly, his focus returned to the Operator.

Hanson swiveled around to look at Penny, appraising her for a moment before turning back to Sheldon. He nodded, as though understanding, but he didn't. Not really. How could he possibly know? He could only assume. And what Hanson believed was that Sheldon wanted to protect his three women from a group of men. It made sense and it was one of the reasons why the women were itching to leave, but it wasn't Sheldon's main concern—and he certainly wasn't going to correct Hanson on the issue. He wasn't about to let them all know that he knew who Hanson and his men really were.

"Well, let's get some breakfast in ya," Hanson said, slapping his thigh.

He then motioned for them to take a seat at the table, and they all sat down to a meal of oatmeal, beef jerky, canned orange juice, and some very strong coffee. Cecilia, a woman of thirty with short brown hair and dark brown eyes, took Eve's hand and led her to her seat. The nine-year-old had kept her eyes downcast, picking up a spoon only when prompted. She had been traveling with Sheldon and Penny since Nebraska and had not once said a word. Cecilia, who they had met on the border of Iowa, had taken an instant liking to the small red-haired child and never left her side. The girl, however, remained mute. With no voice to give her name, O'Connor had christened the girl Eve—and Eve was the name she responded to.

"Coffee, Tex?" Hanson held up the kettle to Sheldon, who bristled at the abbreviated nickname before politely declining.

Sheldon had refused to give his real name to the Monticello group and had encouraged Penny to do the same. In the presence of strangers, it had become routine for Sheldon to call Penny "Nebraska" while she called him "East Texas". Originally, she had called him Texas but he had immediately corrected her, saying that he was from East Texas and not from any old place on the Confederate map. As much as Sheldon had changed over the course of their time spent alone together, some things had remained the same.

O'Connor offered a prayer before they ate while Hanson and his men shifted uncomfortably in their seats, if only for a moment. Sheldon observed them with piercing blue eyes and waited for the Father to finish his psalm. Once the blessing was complete, the rest of them ate their breakfast in uneasy silence while Penny played with her food. She couldn't wait to leave and she knew that Sheldon was already mentally calculating escape routes and stratagems to throw the Monticello group off their trail. Getting away without being followed, however, was the tricky part.

Sheldon had a feeling that Hanson knew who they really were, who Sheldon really was. He didn't need to be intuitive like Penny. He had only to rely on cold logic and he knew that their party stuck out like a sore thumb on the road, which was why Hanson's men had so "charitably" taken them in.

"We'd like to thank you for your generous hospitality," O'Connor said to Hanson as he rose from the table, "but it is time for us to be back on the road."

Hanson stood up with the rest of them. "I can't convince you to stay?" He directed the question at O'Connor, but he was looking directly at Sheldon.

The priest shook his head. "It is His will that we follow—" he looked up at the ceiling "—and we are but slaves to His design."

"Unfortunate that," Hanson muttered darkly, taking a bite out of the beef jerky in his hand. "We wish you a safe journey." He offered a free hand to O'Connor to shake, and then held it out to Sheldon.

Sheldon stared at Hanson's hand for a moment before lifting his gaze to the younger man's eyes and glared. Penny took this moment to intervene and extended her hand in turn.

"Sorry, East Texas here is a bit of a germaphobe," she explained, smiling falsely.

Hanson raised an eyebrow incredulously. "In this day and age?"

"It's kinda comforting to hold onto something familiar, isn't it?" Her smile had vanished. "Makes you feel normal in an abnormal world."

Hanson nodded in understanding and let go of Penny's hand. "Let us escort you to the city limits." He smiled a wolfish smile. "Wouldn't want any of you to get hurt."

Penny looked at O'Connor, hoping that he could read her answer—and Sheldon's—in her eyes. When the priest nodded a solemn thanks to Hanson, she knew that the three were of the same mind. If they had rejected Hanson's wishes for a third time, he might not have been so lenient. He might have held them prisoners right then and there. This way they could appear unsuspecting and Hanson's men would follow them. But Sheldon would find a way to elude them. He always did.

* * *

Hanson's men had dropped them off at the city limits, as promised. Penny watched to see if they lingered behind, but they didn't seem to follow. Sheldon assured her that Hanson would and that he had most likely deployed trackers the moment Sheldon and company had left the bunker in Monticello.

Their traveling party had made it to Dubuque, Iowa by noon, as Sheldon had predicted—with Cecilia and Penny taking turns driving the bike with the side car for Eve. They used bicycles rather than motorcycles as bicycles made less noise and you didn't have to worry about gas. The other problem was that most vehicles didn't work due to the electromagnetic pulse that had been unleashed across the country a couple of months back—the government's last plan to fight back against _Them_.

Predictably, it didn't work.

After having lunch inside a church, the gang made their way into town to look for a gun shop. Most stores were raided the first day of the eclipse; however, some of the shop owners had been prepared for the looting, storing their guns and ammunition in a locked cellar or basement. They key was knowing _where_ to look. Besides, even if Sheldon and company didn't find anything in the stores, they could just search the surrounding homes. Most cities of moderate population had become ghost towns or completely destroyed. Such was the case with Dubuque, which had been pelted with a hail of fire and brimstone, leaving some of the buildings still smoking four months later.

Stepping past the charred ruins, Sheldon and Penny entered the gun store while O'Connor and Cecilia kept watch with Eve. Although it was daylight and the town appeared deserted, there were still many factions to be wary of: scavengers and marauders—just to name a few. Someone was always out to take what was yours. Or there were those who just wanted to torture and rape for the sake of it. Humans were no less depraved after the apocalypse than they were before it; now they just had no excuses and no laws to prevent them from acting upon their ungodly impulses.

"Penny, help me with this," Sheldon ordered from inside.

He shouldered his rifle and leaned down to put his hands on a solid metal cabinet that was lying on the floor of the empty shop. Penny walked over to where he stood and reached down with both hands, finding her footing. Counting to three, they both pushed the cabinet toward the wall, revealing the outline of a door with a metal ring in the middle on the floor. Sheldon knelt down and hooked his fingers through the iron loop and pulled. It was resistant at first, and Penny was about to offer help, when the trapdoor began to creak and groan until it finally gave way.

Sheldon wiped the back of his hand along his sweaty brow and peered down into the hole. He then got down on hands and knees and began to reach out and feel down the sides of the trapdoor, lifting up the remnants of a rope ladder. Penny took out her flashlight and gritted the tooth guard between her teeth before instinctively lowering herself down the narrow passage with Sheldon's help. It was a six foot drop to the ground, and she felt her bones rattle as she landed on the hard dirt floor. She then took the flashlight out of her mouth and began to shine it around the dark cellar.

"What's down there?" Sheldon asked from above, taking out his own flashlight to have a look.

Penny cautiously walked forward until she approached what looked to be a misshapen wall and reached out with her fingertips to touch burlap. Pulling down the material and a thin layer of dust and sediment with it, Penny took in a deep breath and coughed before smiling brightly.

"Guns—" she coughed again "—lots of them."

She ran her fingers over the metal and stepped over to another section, pulling back blankets covering boxes of ammunition and other items.

"Take what you think is appropriate and hand it up to me."

Penny nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She handed Sheldon the ammunition first and then a box of grenades, letting him sort through what they needed since it was brighter up top. As she began to pick through the weapons, only taking a few extra handguns and holsters, she saw another wall covered with canvas. Tearing it down, Penny grinned wolfishly at what she saw: a longbow with a quiver filled with several dozen arrows.

She gathered all that they needed and, when done, Sheldon helped her out of the cellar. Closing the trapdoor, he had Penny help him push the heavy cabinet back over the door, just in case they came back this way again. That way they'd know where to go for weapons and ammunition.

While they were packing their gear, Cecilia gave a short call—their code. Sheldon and Penny immediately drew their weapons and left their packs behind, cautiously making their way over to the window. Cecilia and Eve were crouched down low behind a mailbox while O'Connor was standing in the door of the shop next to them. Cecilia made a motion with her index and middle finger, pointing at her eyes, and then made the sign for six before pointing behind her.

Standing sill against the wall near the window inside the shop, Sheldon took a compact mirror out of his pocket and positioned it so that he could look out onto the street behind Cecilia. There, prowling down the road, were a half-dozen children, ranging from six to thirteen; each were armed with an automatic weapon.

Sheldon took in deep sigh and pocketed the mirror. Penny nudged him gently, questioning him with her eyes. He only needed to mouth the words "kids, armed" and she cursed silently. Out of all the gangs one could come across on the road, children were the most dangerous. They were violent and savage, not caring what needed to be done in order to get what they wanted. They had no morals and knew no reason, and too many adults had the wrong idea in pitying them. Those people wound up dead.

Penny checked the magazine on her gun and slapped it back in place. Sheldon was a great shot with a rifle, but with a hand gun—with hitting multiple targets with speed and accuracy—Penny was more skilled. She had better aim and faster reflexes, which meant that she would be doing the killing while Sheldon covered her. Although killing kids was the last thing that Penny wanted to do, what really worried her was the noise that gunfire would make and who it would attract—Hanson's men, or worse.

As Penny made to move past Sheldon, he raised his hand to stop her. She could see his blue eyes flickering, his mind deep in thought, and he curled his fingers into a fist. He stood up and went over to his bag, rummaging around until he found a flare gun. After a quick mental calculation, he aimed the gun in the air, over top the buildings, and fired. The flare whizzed through the air before cracking loudly in the sky, bursting a deep red color. If Hanson's men saw it, then maybe they could lure them into the city itself.

Penny already had her mirror out and was checking the streets. The children's attention was focused on the sky. With them distracted, Sheldon motioned for Cecilia to get O'Connor and for them all to run into the gun shop. Quietly, all three ran inside with the padre throwing himself against the wall. Sheldon was already at the cabinet with Penny was beside him, trying to move it as quietly as possible. Lifting up the door, Sheldon threw their gear down the hole and silently motioned for them all to go down as well. Penny jumped down first and took Eve when she was handed to her and then Cecilia and then O'Connor. Sheldon was last, grabbing a piece of tarp and throwing it over the trapdoor as best as he could while lowering himself down and closing the door above him.

There, down below, they waited. A minute went by and then another before they heard hurried footsteps thudding across the floor above them. There was banging and quiet shouting, as though the children were conversing in some unknown language. Penny could hear them beating on the metal cabinet, perhaps trying to open it. Then, after a few more minutes, the footsteps slowly petered out of the shop and it grew silent once more. Sheldon made them wait a little while longer, sitting down on the hard ground. Five minutes went by before more shuffling could be heard. The kids had returned. More loud whispering and a few grunts before the noise carried off again, leaving the store. They stayed in the cellar for another fifteen minutes until claustrophobia finally set in.

With a grunt, Sheldon pushed open the trapdoor. It thudded loudly on the floor, and Sheldon waited a moment, listening for a sound—any sound. Sure that no one was there—or as sure as he could be—he placed his hands on the outer edge of the door and hoisted himself up. Scrambling to balance on his forearms, he pulled himself out of the hole while Penny was at his feet, pushing him up. As he rose up onto his knees, he threw the tarp back and withdrew his Ruger, pointing it at the street. No one was out there. Furtively glancing around the shop, he slowly holstered his weapon and turned around toward the trapdoor, helping Penny out first.

Once they were all out with their gear on, they hid the trapdoor again and carefully made their way out of the shop, traveling down an alleyway to take a less direct route back to the church where they had hidden their bikes. Dusk was already approaching. They would take refuge in the church that night and leave the city to head northeast at daybreak. Hanson's men wouldn't dare enter the church, and they certainly wouldn't travel at night.

* * *

Sheldon's party began their journey at the crack of dawn, making their way to the small regional airport just outside the city limits of Dubuque. Sheldon took out his map and grimaced. Up until two months ago he had used the GPS on his phone to move from location to location. Satellites were one of the few things still operating, and he even had a betavoltaic battery for his mobile device. Unfortunately, the electromagnetic pulse created by the government's last ditch effort to eradicate _Them_ had wiped out the power to his laptop and phone when they were on the road in Kansas. If they had been underground, the technology would have been saved. Fortunately, the rest of Sheldon's equipment was stored in their bunker back in Tehama, California, but that was of no use to them near the border of Illinois.

"Someone's following us," Penny informed Sheldon quietly, her head bent so that no one could read her lips.

"Hanson's men," Sheldon answered tersely, still examining the map. "They've been tracking us since we left the church this morning."

Penny fingered the strap of the holster on her right hip. "Why haven't they jumped us yet?"

"I reckon they want to see where we're going first," he replied, folding the map carefully and slipping it into the side pocket on his cargo pants. "They need to make sure we're who they think we are and, if we're not, then they need to find the right moment to ambush us."

"And we're going to give them that moment?" Penny asked peevishly.

"No," Sheldon replied, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "I plan to turn the tables on them very shortly."

Penny put a hand on her hip and huffed. "When were you going to fill me in on this plan?"

"Really, Penny," he began in a familiar patronizing tone, "when have I ever needed to walk you through one of my plans? You're a creature of instinct, and I use that strength to my advantage."

Penny lowered her hand to her side, somewhat taken aback by his words. It was true that she often just reacted to each given situation as though reading Sheldon's mind and knowing what to do on instinct alone. It had always served them well. However, Penny had never expected Sheldon to admit as such. In the past he had always been opposed to her impulsiveness. Now he seemed to value it, to rely on it. Such was the world they lived in.

"The safe house we're heading to has a warehouse where we can draw them in and dispose of them soundlessly." He unhooked the flap on his right hip holster. "We're less than five miles away."

Just then a bullet whizzed past Sheldon's left ear, grazing his temple. He immediately threw himself to the pavement and withdrew the Ruger from his right hip. He turned and fired in the direction of where the shot had come from. Hiding behind a tree was a dark man dressed in army fatigues. He took the bullet right in the ear. The missile passed through his head with a splatter, and he fell forward flat onto his face—dead.

Penny and the rest of the gang were already down, seeking shelter behind an abandoned car parked in the middle of the road. Sheldon followed suit, scrambling to his feet and taking off in their direction, barely avoiding the spray of bullets that chased his footsteps. He collided into the car door with a jolt of pain traveling up his right arm, followed by a kaleidoscope of color. His left arm fell limp; his shoulder was dislocated.

"We're flanked!" Penny growled, firing blindly over the hood of the car before throwing herself back down beside the wheel.

Bullets tore through metal and plastic, and Sheldon let his bad arm hang limply at his side before pulling himself up into a squatting position. He looked up through the passenger window to see how many men were settled in the brush when a bullet shattered through the glass, causing him to duck to the ground.

"They seem to have scattered during the initial attack," he said breathlessly, wincing as his wounded arm bumped into the side of the car.

"I counted five when I made it to the car, and you killed one," Penny said, before turning back and firing into the bush. "So there's at least four left."

"Five," Sheldon corrected. "They would have sent two men for each one of us who is armed." He glanced in the direction of O'Connor, who was cradling the child close while praying.

Penny swore as she reloaded both pistols. "What do you want to do, then?"

Sheldon quickly took in a lay of the land. It was mostly flat terrain with few trees for coverage. There was no high ground to be taken, no large rocks to hide behind. They would have to increase their fire power and the speed of their attacks to ensure any sort of victory.

"Penny, I want you to continue firing over the hood of the car, drawing their attention," he ordered. "I will throw a grenade and run out toward them, using the element of surprise."

She grimaced. "Sheldon, we both know women have quicker reflexes. I'm a faster shot and my aim is more accurate."

Sheldon growled, removing a grenade from his belt. "Penny, this isn't a time to put your feminist theories to test."

"Sheldon." She was looking at his dislocated arm and the blood dripping down the side of his temple toward the corner of his eye.

"Fine," he hissed, handing her the grenade before taking out another one for him to use. "After they return fire, take a note of where the majority of the gunfire comes from. When I start shooting again, you'll throw the grenade in that direction and then run out toward the bushes." He leveled his cold blue eyes on her. "You've got that?"

"Got it."

Sheldon immediately opened fire, and Hanson's men returned it. Estimating the general direction from where the gunfire came from, Penny pulled out the pin to the grenade and held onto the clip. When Hanson's men stopped firing to reload, Sheldon looked up at Penny and nodded, standing up to fire over the hood of the car. Penny threw the grenade and waited for it to explode. When it did, and the earth rose up in giant clumps to meet the sky, she ran out past the car and into the brush as quietly and as quickly as possible.

She aimed low, the roar of the 9mm thrumming in her ears. The men were confused, still firing at the car. They didn't even notice her coming until a hole appeared an inch above the right knee of one of the men who was standing behind a tree not far from her. A dark red stain immediately began to spread, and the man's mouth opened wide in shock. The surprise died in his eyes when she reported another shot at his head. His neck snapped back and he hit the ground with a lifeless thud.

The others looked up, and Penny smiled darkly. She had used to dread moments like these: taking another man's life. The first time she had killed she had vomited her breakfast all over Sheldon's shoes and refused to look him in the eye for three days. Now she approached the task with a cool sort of detachment. It was her duty. She wanted to see the whites of their eyes before she fired. It made it easier to aim.

She squeezed off the rest of the round, shooting the second tracker right through his eye and the third through the throat. The last bullet tore through the fourth man's scalp, which peeled away like old wallpaper and slapped against his cheek. Blood poured down his face in rivulets, and chunks of his skull and brains had splattered against the tree behind him.

When the dust and the smoke settled, Penny took in a deep breath and leaned against a tree. She let her trained eyes scan the landscape before running back over to the car.

"Did you see that?" she asked excitedly. Her voice was high-pitched and the words tumbled out like a babbling brook. "I got all four and not one scratch on me. Not one shot fired against me."

"Four?" Sheldon asked worriedly, hurriedly glancing around.

"Yeah, I never saw the fifth," she said, her heart still racing from the adrenaline rush.

Later she would dwell on what she had done with a cold sickness, but now she could only be proud that she had survived and saved the others in the process.

Sheldon looked down at his dislocated arm and then back up. "Penny?"

For a moment, Penny's lips could only twist together in confusion before she realized his meaning.

"Right. Sorry."

She took his left arm in her right hand while bracing her left hand above his shoulder. With a swift, sickening pop, she twisted and pulled his shoulder back into place. Sheldon gritted his teeth but did not cry out. Instead, he held his injured arm and massaged it, glaring at Penny the entire time, as though it was her fault that he was in pain to begin with.

Then there was a crack, a high note bleeding on air. It struck a discord among them, and they all warily jerked their heads around liker birds, looking for the source of the noise. Sand and ash rattled against their boots and as the silence held, spinning itself out, a sharp gasp came from Cecilia, causing the rest to turn in her direction. Her breath had clogged in her throat and her eyes were wide and stunned. She looked down and clutched both hands at her right side. Lifting them away, she brought them eye-level. They were covered with blood.

"Down!" Penny yelled, throwing herself on top of Eve.

Sheldon did not run for cover this time. Instead, he calculated the direction in which the bullet came from, raised his gun, and fired twice. The shots squeezed out like cracks of lightning and both bullets struck home: one in the assailant's right cheek, the second between his eyes. He was already dead before he hit the ground.

Dropping his arm, Sheldon holstered his gun and walked over to Cecilia, who was lying bleeding on the ground in shock. Penny already had a makeshift bandage tied around the brunette's waist, putting pressure on the wound. Sheldon crouched down beside her and slapped Penny's hands away, lifting up the blood-soaked shirt. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed away at the blood.

Cecilia moaned, rolling her eyes up into the back of her head.

"Don't pass out!" Sheldon spat, exasperated.

Penny was already slapping Cecilia awake, talking to her and telling her that she was fine—that she was going to be okay.

"The bullet went through the fleshy part above her hip," Sheldon observed, examining the wound with a concerted effort. "It doesn't appear to have hit any arteries, bone, or vital organs." He left the handkerchief on it and then tightly retied the dressing, helping Cecilia to her feet. "We need to get to the safe house right now. There are medical supplies there."

"I'm not sure if I can bike it there," Cecilia admitted weakly, her face already pale.

"Yes, you can," Sheldon said coldly. "It's a flesh wound that can easily be stitched. But if you worry yourself, you will go into shock and die." His voice was sharp, and his fingers dug into the fleshy part of her arm. "We're less than five miles away. You can get in the side car with me, and I will take you there."

Cecilia nodded fiercely, a bit of color returning to her cheeks, and she allowed him to escort her to the fallen bike. After righting it, Sheldon helped her inside and climbed on the bicycle.

"Try to keep up," he told the others.

O'Connor was already standing over the fallen men with his bible in hand, quickly giving them their last rights before covering them with branches and what brush he could find. They did not need Hanson to find his men so easily—or them.

Penny picked up the other bikes and took the basket off Cecilia's before throwing the bike itself into the bush. She then tied the basket to the back of her bike and lifted Eve inside it. Luckily Eve was small enough to fit inside. While Eve could have ridden Cecilia's bike, it was a lot faster for her to ride with Penny. Without waiting for the padre, and leaving Cecilia's pack behind for him to carry, Penny took off after Sheldon. O'Connor caught up a few minutes later and, after forty minutes of exhausted biking, they finally made it to Sheldon's designated safe house. However, it wasn't a house; it was an industrial building, a manufacturer of textiles or something of the sort. It wasn't a very large structure, but it had an adjoining warehouse and some trees for cover spaced out in front of a wide field. In the parking lot was an old Jeep and no other vehicles.

Sheldon helped Cecilia out of the side car. She stumbled to her feet, clutching onto his arm for support. He then handed her over to Penny, who followed Sheldon to the main building's entrance, dragging Cecilia alongside her. Penny had one arm wrapped around the brunette while the other was holding onto her Ruger. O'Connor had a hold on Eve and was following closely behind while an armed Sheldon led the way.

"This is a pharmaceutical manufacturer and regional depository," Sheldon explained quietly, holstering his gun as he took out a lock pick and began to work on the door. "There's a lab in the back of the main building near the warehouse where I can stitch up Cecilia."

Once the lock made a clicking noise and the door opened a crack, Sheldon slowly pocketed the thin metal device and looked up at Penny. She immediately set Cecilia against the wall and nodded, holding her gun with both hands, ready to back Sheldon up. He withdrew his Lupara from its secure place in his backpack and held it up chest-level before kicking the door wide open and stepping inside.

**-x-**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**PRESENT: OCTOBER 16, 2017**

Penny nodded in ready, holding her gun in both hands while Sheldon withdrew his Lupara from his pack. He took in a deep breath and held up the sawed-off shotgun at chest-level before exhaling sharply and kicking the door in. The hinges gave way and the door swung wide open, ricocheting off the wall. Sheldon stepped inside, his heart racing as he swiftly turned from side to side with his gun, inspecting the room. A cascade of light filtered in through a medium-sized window near the reception table, lighting the specks of dust that swirled upward and settled in the air. A man sat at the desk with a book in hand; his expression was a mixture of shock and abject terror and something else that Sheldon couldn't quite put his finger on.

"I'm a medic!" the stranger cried, springing to his feet and raising his hands defensively in the air. "I'm not one of them—I'm not an Other."

Sheldon frowned, visibly perturbed by the man's words; however, he did not lower his shotgun. Instead, he inspected the man standing in front of him.

The medic was short and thin; it was a lean sort of thinness that suggested sinewy muscle hidden underneath. His hair was dirty blond and flaxen, like the sparse beard he wore on his chin. His nose was large and narrow, jutting out between two keen gray eyes that were set closely together. On those slightly sunken eyes were dirty spectacles with the right lens cracked at the bottom. He wore dark clothes, dingy and frayed, and at first glance he appeared to be a young man, no older than twenty-seven. Upon closer inspection in the light, though, the lines around his eyes told a different story—as did the dirty blond hair, which had more gray in it than blond.

"How can I be certain of that?" Sheldon blue eyes hardened. "Should I just take your word for it?"

The medic lowered his hands slightly, fingers still twitching in the air. His gray eyes sought Sheldon's with dumbfounded recognition.

"I—I dreamed about you," he whispered. "A tall dark-haired man with cruel blue eyes—a man who would lead us all to the truth and back onto the path of righteousness."

Penny snorted from the door, her rifle casually aimed at the blond stranger. "Did your dream also mention that he's a haughty, obsessed, monomaniacal physicist?"

Sheldon's right eye suddenly twitched, but he did not turn around or say a word. Arm steady, he merely stared unblinkingly at the man in front of him, waiting for his answers.

"No," the medic replied, nervously licking at his lips, "but I saw you too—" he nodded at Penny "—standing beside him." When he returned his gaze back to Sheldon, his voice rose in pitch. "You're both heading north, right? To New York—to Niagara Falls." He took in a deep breath. "I—I'm supposed to help you."

Sheldon lowered his shotgun a fraction of an inch. "How did you know to come to this place?"

"I had a dream that I'd find you here," the medic replied. "I just didn't realize that you'd find me instead." He let out a strangled laugh, which quickly died in his throat when he saw the lack of humor in Sheldon's eyes. "Look, I'm not your enemy." His body stiffened, and he stood tall and proud. "I'm not a scavenger and I'm not an Other. I was part of a group of survivalists just outside Cedar Rapids."

"Was?" O'Connor asked from the door, bringing a wounded Cecilia inside with Eve at their heels.

The blond shifted on his feet; his arms were getting tired but no more tired than the weary look in his dark eyes.

"Hanson and his men betrayed us—betrayed my friends." The medic swallowed hard, looking down at his feet. "They're dead now—all of them." He glanced up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "There were twenty-three of us, and now I'm the only one left."

Sheldon stared hard at the stranger for a long moment and then lowered his gun, but he did not put it away.

"How did you survive?"

The medic licked his dry lips out of habit and slowly lowered his hands, no longer in immediate danger.

"I was on a scouting mission looking for you." He wiped his damp palms along the front of his pants. "I came here after ... after I saw all the bodies along the Interstate. They were hung up on—on telephone poles.

"They had been crucified." The blond choked back a sob of disgust at the recollection. "I took refuge in a church, and when I fell asleep I dreamed about this place and you—all of you."

Sheldon's party had become mute, each exchanging knowing glances before lowering their heads. Finally, O'Connor broke the silence and held a wounded Cecilia up against the doorframe. She clutched at her side, letting out a sharp hiss of pain.

"How about we get the medic here to look at Cecilia?" the priest suggested, helping the woman inside.

Sheldon stared at the stranger for a moment longer before giving a curt nod. "Alright," he said with a tired sigh, sliding the Lupara behind his back into its secure holding place. He then pointed behind him to Cecilia. "Fix her up, Doc."

The blond nodded vigorously, a look of eagerness spreading across his thin face. "The name's Dave, by the way. Dave Whittaker." He held out his hand for Sheldon to shake, but the physicist did not take it.

"Yeah, we're not big on full names or shaking hands," Penny informed the medic darkly, shouldering her weapon as he lowered his hand to his side. "We'll just call ya Doc."

"But I'm not a doctor," Dave corrected, blinking nonplussed. "I'm a medic."

"I'd attempt levity and ask what the difference is," Sheldon began lightly, "but you had better get to work before it gets dark." He then let out a breathless laugh at his own joke, which seemed oddly inappropriate and surreal in such circumstances.

"Huh?"

Slack-jawed, Dave glanced up at Sheldon and the physicist's bright eyes dimmed. He shook his head and waved a hand dismissively.

"Never mind. Check on Cecilia."

"Uh, alright."

Still confused, the medic grabbed a black bag off the floor and set it on the desk, motioning for Cecilia to take a seat by the window where there was more light. He then went to work cleaning and disinfecting the wound before taking out a package of sterilized sutures.

Penny observed the medic's stitch work with a grimace. "Trust us—" she crossed her arms over her chest "—Doc is going to stick."

Sheldon and company then began to unpack and inspect the building. Not much time had passed before they returned to the main room and Doc was already done stitching up Cecilia. The brunette smiled up at him, lightly feathering her fingers over the stitches before he began to wrap her torso with thick white gauze.

Suddenly a great shriek rang through the desolated valley, vibrating against the office walls, and everyone froze in terror. The cry was a mixture of roaring and cawing, and the sound was unmistakable, as was its source.

"Jesus Christ!" Doc hissed loudly, his eyes wild as he clutched at his chest. "It's one of _Them_."

"Do you see it?" Sheldon saddled up beside the medic at the window, his Lupara ready in his hands.

Doc shifted his back against the wall, inching away from the window, and nodded. His face was ashen, as though all the blood had been drained from it.

"Yeah—" he pointed behind him "—it's over that ridge near that other building just down the road."

"God dammit!" Penny cursed from the other side of the room, and Sheldon sharply turned his head in her direction.

"Penny," he growled.

She followed his eyes to the window. "Yeah, I know."

Penny quietly dropped her gaze to her guns and began to check her ammunition. It had become a compulsive habit of hers, like Sheldon's knocking on her apartment door had been once upon a time.

"Gunfire is only going to draw attention," Sheldon said lowly, walking past Penny and out the door. "You're going to have to use the bow."

Penny nodded and followed him outside, picking up her bow and quiver off the table. She hated hunting _Them_. Animals and even humans were easier: they didn't fill her with a sense of terrifying dread. If she missed, her whole team would be killed—if not by this thing then by its friends who were bound to be nearby. So, yes, they had to be quiet and use the bow. They were too close to their safe house to draw attention to themselves.

Sheldon led Penny around the building to a spot where they could view the beast more closely without being sighted. The thing was wretched and enormous, at least seven feet in height and five feet across in width and breadth. It was dark, almost black; however, it seemed to gleam with unnatural colors of crimson and azure, as though its body was constantly shifting. The span of its wings was eight feet or longer when extended, with the look and texture of leathery bat wings. Most of the time the demon looked flat, like a hole in some other luminous, turbulent universe, and an observer had only its inconstant outline from which to infer its shape. Over the course of a couple seconds, though, it seemed to take on the shape of an enormous crab as it used its massive talons or claws to dig into something soft and yielding beneath it.

Quietly unslinging her new bow from her shoulder, Penny drew a sturdy arrow from the quiver on her back. She lined up her sights and watched as the beast feasted. Her eyes narrowed dangerously with murderous intent. A few months ago she would have thrown up at such a sight—and did—but now it was like watching the wolves attack the deer. Only Penny felt no pity for her quarry: she felt repulsion and hatred. She heard a soft rustle, and Sheldon was at her right side; in his hand was a small can of lighter fluid, which he applied liberally to the arrowhead. Glancing into his eyes for a quick second—unspoken words exchanged—Penny set her sight on her target and ran her fingers along the feathers, readying the arrow against the string.

"Light me up, Padre."

O'Connor was already at her left side, his lighter out.

"God is our shield," he recited calmly. "Those who work against the upright in heart will be punished by His divine might." He struck the flint and a small flame shot upwards, engulfing the metal head. "He has strung His bow and made it ready; He has tipped His arrows with fire."

Drawing back the string until taut, Penny lined the flaming arrow alongside her index finger and thumb, feeling the fire burn calluses already hardened with practice. She took in a deep breath, aimed with both eyes open, and exhaled.

The blazing arrow hurtled through the air, plunging deep into the heart of the winged creature. Startled, the demon emitted a wail of pain, much like a piercing buzz that crescendoed into a shrill scream. It floundered for a moment before falling onto its back, writhing in agony as its talons clawed at some invisible foe. Thrashing, it squawked feebly before its body seemed to crumple and fold into itself. Withered and cracked, the evil thing let out one last shuddering breath before it went still.

"Let the evil of the wicked come to an end," O'Connor said with a slight tremor in his voice, watching this thing—this demon—die. "Herein establish the rule of the righteous, and it is in His name that we pray. Amen."

"Amen."

The silence hung thick and heavy in the air until Penny turned around to face O'Connor, the sound of hard dirt crunching underneath her boots.

"You think you could make the prayer a little less lengthy next time?" she quipped sarcastically, shouldering her bow.

"If there is a next time," Cecilia added with a labored sigh behind them, and then winked at the padre. "Such theatrics, Father."

"My pride is my sin," he said, bowing humbly before raising his head with a large grin on his face.

Cecilia and Doc broke out into laughter, feeling the weight of the situation ease off their shoulders. If the demon had noticed them there at all, it would have killed them or, at the very least, sent more demons their way. But now it was time to breathe again and laugh at their fortune. Such brevity, however, would not last long in the presence of Sheldon Cooper.

"Enough—" Sheldon's voice cut through the laughter "—let's dispose the body." He pointed at O'Connor. "Go get some lime from the warehouse. Doc, start digging—there should be shovels around here somewhere in the warehouse. We need to set up the safe house before sunset." He glanced over at Penny before picking up his gun. "Let's get moving."

"Yes, boss," Doc said with a salute, before taking off in a jog toward the warehouse.

Everyone else attended to their routine duties while Cecilia took Eve by the hand and led her back into the office to find a place to lay her to rest. Penny turned to see Sheldon walking over to where the body lay, standing over it as he wordlessly scouted the land. The day was almost over but more work needed to be done before the real danger arrived at nightfall, and Penny found herself remembering a time when all she only had to worry about were generators and hot water.

* * *

**PAST: JUNE 16, 2017**

"Sheldon, you forgot to heat the water tank!"

Penny bellowed at her erstwhile neighbor from inside the small cubicle where she took her shower. The water felt like ice on her skin, and her teeth were already chattering when she leaped out of the stall. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around her shivering body and tore out of the bathroom, intent on finding the culprit who was denying her hot water. She quickly made her way down the narrow corridor and found Sheldon seated at the small kitchen table. Pushing wet hair out of her face, Penny issued the brunet her most scathing glare.

"Sheldon, did you hear me?"

Sheldon was putting together (or taking apart) some rather complex-looking machinery and was paying her no mind. Unfortunately for him, Penny was in no mood to indulge him in his hobbies.

"Sheldon!"

"I heard you," he said dryly, picking up a thin piece of wire and attaching it to a small cylinder.

"Great, you heard me." Penny held up the top of the towel with one hand while slapping the other against her thigh before gesturing wildly with it. "I said you forgot to heat the water tank, and I just about turned into a popsicle!"

Sheldon glanced up, still holding the metal device in his hand. His brow had knitted into a deep V of concentration as his eyes subtly inspected her non-frozen body.

"Clearly you didn't," he replied seriously, and then looked back down at his work. "And, Penny, _who_ forgot to heat the water tank?"

She closed her mouth abruptly, puzzling out his question. What day was it? Monday? Sunday? No, it was definitely Monday. _Dammit_! It was her week to monitor the water tank and all the other appliances and generators that needed charging or maintenance.

"Never mind!" She let out an angry huff and walked past Sheldon to the utility closet where she pulled out the gas can for the generator. "I'll do it myself!"

"Mhm," Sheldon hummed, knowing that he was right, and turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, Penny made her way down to the secondary level of the bunker where the generator was kept. Normally they depended on solar energy to run the appliances and heat the water underground, but for the past three days the sky had been dark, covered with massive black clouds. It wasn't a storm, not the kind that produced rain anyway. It hadn't rained in Tehama, California in nearly three weeks. The news reports said that it was a result of the nuclear fallout from space raining back down on the planet, blanketing the sky with darkness.

It had all begun seven months ago when a meteor was reported to hit Earth. In order to prevent global annihilation, the United States and the European Union had banded together with the United Nations to gather the top scientists from around the world. The boys—Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Raj—were called immediately, as were most of the Physics and Engineering faculty at Caltech. Calculating the trajectory of the meteor, engineers and astrophysicists were able to launch a nuclear weapon that would explode the meteoroid at a safe enough distance, only causing minimal damage to Earth.

It had worked, sort of. Instead of the massive extermination of all indigenous life on the plane, there was only a minimal loss of life—over seven million dead, not including plant and animal life. The smaller fractured pieces of the meteor had crashed down into the Indian Ocean, wiping out land masses in the far East. It had been a horrible, unspeakable tragedy, but mankind had narrowly avoided extinction—at least for now.

A tremendous global-wide rescue operation had been put into effect after the meteor fell and more scientists were rounded up and sent to work with the military and even for the Center for Disease Control, which was stationed in an underground bunker in Idaho. The news, however, had become silent about the results of these efforts and why scientists were being taken, but Penny had known that there was more going on and more destruction to come. It was only inevitable.

Twisting the gas cap shut, Penny started the generator and picked up the gas can to return it to the utility closet. She walked back to the bathroom, passing an absorbed Sheldon along the way, and shed her towel. Making sure the water was hot, she stepped underneath the nozzle of the spray and smiled. There were few luxuries in life better than a hot shower. As she began to wash the smell of gasoline off her hands, Penny took a mental note of their hygiene inventory. They were well-stocked, but it wouldn't hurt to get some of her favorite shampoo and conditioner later this morning when they took their weekly trip to the grocery store.

The bunker they were living in was fully stocked with water, food, training equipment, generators, gasoline, weapons, two bedrooms, and a small lab. Sheldon had anticipated the current events, along with the mutant strain of avian bird flu that had wiped out over thirty million of the world's population only two years ago and the terrorist attacks that had increased on American soil for the past four years. To Sheldon, the apocalypse was inevitable, and he wasn't wrong.

Before the boys had exited Pasadena by military escort, Sheldon had left Penny a large envelope in her apartment. Inside were several sets of keys (all labeled), a letter with detailed instructions, a silver necklace with a small cross pendant, and a map of northern California—all of which led her to a dilapidated house in Tehama County, California, twenty miles from any major highways. In the house Penny had found another note leading her to a well-disguised bunker in the back field. Sheldon had filled the underground shelter with at least a three-year supply of food for two people. A third note, which she found on the kitchen table inside the bunker, was brief:

_Penny, _

_Please familiarize yourself with the guides that I have left out for you. There is training equipment available and everything is labeled for easy access. _

_Expect me shortly, within the next week or two. If I do not arrive within a month's time, please prepare yourself to live here permanently._

_Good luck._

_Sheldon Lee Cooper, PhD_

Laid out on the table were several guides: how to use firearms, how to survive in the wilderness, how to survive an apocalypse, and miscellaneous. Behind the table was a bookcase filled with even more how-to guides. Penny had never been much of a reader, but she had decided to make a determined effort to read what Sheldon assigned her. The next day she had gone shopping for fresh food, careful to make sure that no one followed her (as per Sheldon's instructions). She wasn't sure why she was following Sheldon's orders so blindly. It was true that something was wrong with the world and that something bad was about to happen soon, but was it so bad that she found herself trusting her neurotic neighbor implicitly?

When two weeks had gone by and Sheldon hadn't arrived, Penny began to worry. She did not want to live the rest of her life alone, underground. It was better to be dead. After her third week there, on a rainy night, she would find her answer as to whether or not she'd die alone. A pounding came on the hatch door, and Penny grabbed the rifle she kept next to her bed. Climbing up the stairs, she opened the hatch and pointed her gun and flashlight into the night. With rain drizzling down on her head, Penny came face to face with the wide, haunting eyes of Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper, her former neighbor.

Penny immediately took Sheldon inside and warmed him up with blankets before getting some food into him. After a length of time she managed to get a story out of him—how he had spent the last two weeks hiding from the government on his way to her. He told Penny a sketchy tale of how he, Leonard, Howard, and Raj had been on their way to Edwards Air Force Base when Sheldon had managed to escape from the group and made his way north by sleeping during the day and traveling at night. He didn't go into the details, saying that Penny wouldn't understand and that it wasn't important, but regardless of how it happened he had made it back to her. She was thankful for that.

When Penny had asked Sheldon why he had left he had been silent, saying that he had more important things to do—that they both had more important things to do. He never talked about what or why after that night, and Penny had not inquired again. She was just happy not to be alone. And although living with Sheldon in an underground bunker was two steps from hell at times, it wasn't so bad. The time seemed to fly by with all the training he put her through.

Penny had no idea Sheldon was so skilled with weapons and hunting. She should have, seeing on where he was raised and by whom. Oddly enough, he didn't seem too shocked to find that Penny was skilled with a rifle as well. At least three times a week they would practice shooting on a range about fifty miles northeast of the bunker. Every day they would practice archery in the back field with targets. Penny had learned quickly and had become quite skilled, almost as good as Sheldon. She had been pleased to discover that Sheldon was such a good teacher; however, he wasn't nearly as patient as he was when he had taught her the basics of Physics. Luckily she had learned the dynamics of weaponry a lot quicker than she had memorized the Theory of Relativity. She couldn't help but laugh, remembering the impromptu lessons in his apartment. It was only a few years ago, but it felt like a lifetime—another lifetime.

"Penny?"

Sheldon's voice came from outside the bathroom, stirring her from her reverie. Gone was the compulsive three knocks succeeded by her name. He had, however, lamentably kept most of his other annoying habits, such as his fastidious, overbearing nature.

"When you're done in there," he said, his voice muffled by the door separating them, "I need to speak with you topside."

Penny rolled her eyes at his formality.

"I'll be out in five minutes," she singsonged, massaging the conditioner out of her scalp. She had learned to take brief showers since living in the bunker with Sheldon.

It was odd how quickly both of them had changed while living together these past seven months and how accustomed they had become with one another. Sheldon's obsessive compulsive behavior had toned down to the point where he could be deemed normal, and his personality was far less abrasive and pedantic, although he still had his moments. He had become more silent and morose in return, perpetually contemplative. Penny, on the other hand, had learned to become more resourceful and less wasteful. She no longer missed her shows or dancing at the clubs or binge-shopping for shoes. She did miss drinking, though. Sheldon would let her indulge from time to time, but it wasn't the same drinking alone with someone else in the room. They had a television and a radio for news, but Penny spent most of her free time reading or listening to music. This—living in an underground bunker and training for a shit-hit-the-fan scenario—was her life now, as sad as it was.

Penny quickly toweled herself dry and got dressed before heading up the stairs and out of the hatch. Sheldon was leaning against the side of the house, looking up at the sky with his cellphone in hand. Joining him on the porch of their dilapidated farmhouse, Penny sat down on one of the rickety wooden chairs and took in a deep breath, tasting the air. It was better than the stale air they breathed in the bunker—or at least that's what she convinced herself. Sheldon claimed the air was properly circulated, but still there was a huge difference when you could see the sky—even if that sky was currently dark, cloudy, and threatening.

"While you were in the shower I received a transmission from Koothrappali." Sheldon's expression unreadable as he slipped the phone into his pocket. "The government flew him back to Caltech to perform some observatory work."

"And?"

Sheldon pushed himself off the siding and slid his hands into his pockets. "And another meteor shower is going to hit Earth in the next three days."

Penny's mouth fell open in shock. "A-are any going to hit the West Coast?"

"Rajesh couldn't be certain." He looked up at the dark sky before taking in a deep breath and exhaling. "It's of no matter. We'll have to prepare now."

"Prepare? Prepare for what—a meteor attack?"

"No," he replied mildly, "for earthquakes."

"Earthquakes?"

Sheldon furrowed his dark brow in exasperation. "Penny, we're on the San Andreas Fault Line."

"Right," she said softly to herself. Then, as though realizing the implications, she shook her head and cleared her throat uncomfortably. "So, what are we going to do?"

Sheldon began to descend the stairs. "We're going to go into town and get some supplies." He was already making his way round to the front of the house toward the shed where they kept their old Ford pickup truck.

"Supplies?" Penny jumped off the porch and following closely behind. "But we already have tons of food, weapons, and gear."

Sheldon opened the passenger side and stepped inside, waiting for Penny to climb in the driver's seat and take the proffered keys from his fingers.

"These will be non-traditional supplies," he said, putting on his seatbelt and waiting for her to do the same. "I'll explain on the way into town."

Penny did up her seatbelt and put the key in the ignition, starting the motor with a stuttering cough. She wrapped her hands around the wheel at ten and two, her knuckles blanching white.

"Sheldon?" Her voice was soft, and she turned to meet his dark blue eyes. "Are we going to survive this?"

"Yes, Penny," he answered without hesitation, "we are." Penny's body seemed to relax at his word. "But not many others will."

Tensing once more, Penny licked her dry lips and shifted the truck into gear.

"This is the apocalypse," she whispered in defeat, turning onto the dusty road.

"This is only the beginning."

* * *

Sheldon had made Penny drive to several churches along the way, where they had collected holy water and other religious artifacts. Of course they hadn't really collected these items but had stolen them—going back at night and breaking inside. Penny had questioned Sheldon why they were doing this since all their other supplies had been legally obtained, but he had only given her a cryptic response—telling her that she would understand in time. Oddly enough, she did not question him. She trusted him implicitly, even if he never explained himself or gave reason. All Penny knew was that Sheldon would keep her safe and alive. Maybe it was intuition; maybe it was something greater than that. She couldn't say for certain.

It was the eve of the meteor shower and Penny and Sheldon had prepared as best as they could. Penny was trying to get in contact with Howard and Leonard using a jacked-up CB radio with a high-powered transmitter, a crafty design that Sheldon and Howard had engineered a few years back. Tuning it to their special frequency, Penny called Leonard up to talk to him, but Howard answered instead.

"Hey, Howard," Penny greeted. "Is Leonard there?" She let go of the button on the hand-held transmitter and listened to the static, waiting for Howard's reply.

"That's a negatory, good buddy," he replied good-naturedly, the transmitter clicking loudly in Penny's ear. "He's in a meeting right now."

"Why aren't you there with him?" Penny asked, letting go of the button.

Sheldon snorted beside her. "Because he's just a lowly engineer."

"Sheldon!" she chastised, covering the mouthpiece of the device as though Howard could hear through it with Penny's finger off the push-to-talk switch.

"He can't hear me." Sheldon pointed at the radio as though the notion were so obvious that a slow child or an above average monkey could understand.

"They're flying Bernadette into Greenbriar today." Howard's voice cracked through, unknowingly interrupting. "I'm waiting for her arrival."

"Greenbriar?" Sheldon asked out loud, a look of confusion and mild panic flitting across his darkened features. He took the CB radio from Penny's hand. "You're not in Idaho any longer? You're not with the CDC?"

"No," Howard answered slowly, drawing out the vowel. "They moved us."

Penny snatched back the radio, glaring at Sheldon before pressing down the button.

"Well, that's good that you'll have Bernadette with you," she said, smiling. "At least you guys will all be safe there together."

She let go of the push-to-talk switch and sighed, a forlorn expression creeping onto her lovely face. Sheldon then did something unexpected and put a tentative hand on her shoulder, understanding that she wished to speak to Leonard before the meteor shower. She touched his fingers briefly, giving him a watery smile before he awkwardly withdrew his hand from hers. They both turned their attention back to the radio and waited for a reply. There was a lengthy pause, only the sound of crackling static from the receiver, and then it cleared.

"Penny? Sheldon?" Howard's voice was soft, hesitant. "We're all really sorry that you're both not here with us."

Sheldon took the radio from Penny and pressed down on the talk switch. "We'll be better off than the rest of you, Wolowitz." He let go of the button, and they could hear Howard laughing on the other end.

"I miss you too, Sheldon."

Sheldon blinked nonplussed and handed the radio back to Penny. "Miss me too? I never implied such a—"

"Is Raj back yet?" Penny asked, cutting Sheldon off.

There was white noise and then a click followed by a cough.

"No," Howard said quietly, too quietly. "There's been massive rioting all across Los Angeles county, so Raj is staying with a few others in the underground facilities at Caltech."

"Oh." Penny swallowed hard and glanced furtively at Sheldon. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Yeah ..." Howard paused, the static deafening. "Well, you two take care. Leonard and I will call you back on this frequency once the meteor shower is over."

"Tell Leonard—" Penny licked her lips, holding the radio tightly in her hand "—tell him to take care, okay?"

"Will do. Good luck to you both."

"You too. Bye."

Deafening static filled the bunker, and Sheldon reached over to take the radio from Penny's hand. He adjusted the squelch, cutting down the noise but keeping the radio on just in case Howard or Leonard needed to contact them again—or Raj.

Penny immediately got up and headed to her room, wiping at her face with the heel of her palms. Sheldon remained in the kitchen, staring at the radio until he shook his head and headed to his own room. Turning off the fuel lamp, he crawled into bed and stared at the wall until he could no longer keep his eyes open. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep or how long ago the rumbling of the storm above and below had begun. As the shaking began to increase, books and utensils fell off the table in the kitchen and he could feel two arms circle his waist from behind, crushing his ribs. He jumped, touching the hands, and whipped his head around. It was too dark to see, but he could feel the shape of the body trembling against him.

"Penny?" His reflexes must have dulled indeed not to have noticed her slip into his bed—that or she was just that quiet.

"Please hold me," she whispered.

He turned over onto his side to face her, and she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Unsure of what to do, Sheldon brought his hands up to her waist and circled them around her back, holding her close. As she nuzzled her face into his neck and whimpered softly, Sheldon rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes. He knew that fear was an irrational emotion, but it was also an all-consuming one. And no one, not even he, wanted to be alone during times like these.

* * *

Sheldon spent the better half of the next day trying to tune in to a station on the radio in order to get some local news. Eventually, he managed to get a news broadcast from Vancouver, British Columbia. Massive and numerous natural disasters had been reported across the globe, including widespread power shortages that were currently causing general mayhem. Asia was deeply affected, as well as most of Polynesia. North America and Europe fared slightly better, with exception to most of the southwest coast of the United States.

The news broadcast repeated its emergency programs, but Penny was too depressed to listen anymore and asked Sheldon to turn it off. Howard and Leonard had not called them back, nor could they get in contact them. Penny had started to become nervous and restless, and it was making Sheldon uneasy.

"They haven't called back!" she said mostly to herself, pacing the length of the floor. "They said they would. There's nothing but static on the line." She stopped pacing and looked down at her feet. "Leonard. Howard. Raj."

The ground rumbled, an aftershock, and she braced herself. When the tremor was over, she glanced up at the ceiling with a determined look on her face.

"That's it! I'm going to go up and check outside!"

"No!" Sheldon commanded firmly from his seat at the kitchen table.

"But, Sheldon—"

"I said NO, Penny!" His blue eyes slowly softened at her wounded look, and he glanced down at his clenched fists. "Not yet."

Penny just stared at him. She had been listening to him without question for the past seven months, but now she couldn't. She had to know what was going on outside. She had to know what was destroying the world as she once knew it.

Breaking off into a run, she nimbly climbed the stairs to the top of the hatch. Her movements were so quick and sudden that Sheldon didn't even realize what had happened until after the fact—until after she had opened the hatch door and peered outside. Less than five seconds had gone by before his mind willed his legs to move and go after her.

"Penny, NO!" he yelled, leaping up from his chair and scrambling up the stairs after her.

He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her down, pushing her onto the floor as he reached up to shut the hatch door and lock it. When he descended the stairs, she was sitting exactly where he had dropped her, hugging her knees to her chest.

"I-I had to—I had—" She stopped, resting her chin on the top of her knees as she slowly rocked herself back and forth.

Stepping down off the final rung, Sheldon carefully sat down beside her and looked up at the hatch door, glad they didn't have a glass ceiling.

"What the fuck is going on, Sheldon?" Penny stared up at him with glistening eyes. "Why does the sky look like that? Like ..." She trailed off and brought her hands to her ears, covering them as she shook her head, tears flying. "Those noises—those god-awful noises."

"The sky's so dark because there is an eclipse," he answered after a moment of silence. "It began not long after the meteor shower."

"An eclipse?" She dropped her hands, looking utterly helpless. "But how? For how long?"

Sheldon exhaled loudly. "Three days and three nights."

Penny lifted her palms and held her face in her hands, rocky gently back and forth before raising her chin. "H-how—how do you know all of this, Sheldon?"

There was a pause. "I dreamt it."

"But ..." She screwed her face into a grimace and stared up at the ceiling. "But the things I saw circling in the sky. They were—they weren't." She let out a shuddering sigh and met his eyes. "They were demons, weren't they?"

Sheldon's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Don't you call them that!" he hissed. "Not ever!" He reached out to grab onto her arms, gripping his fingers tightly around the pale flesh. "To give them such a name only lends them power. It gives them our fear and it takes from us—" He cut himself off, controlling his breathing until he regained his cool, detached composure. "It takes away our reason, Penny, our ability to fight back."

He dropped her arms and looked down at his lap, licking his lips nervously. He didn't want her to see him like this, so emotionally spun, and Penny wasn't sure what to think of it. Was this the Sheldon she knew? Was she the person she used to be? So much had changed. Could they ever get it back?

"What do we call them, then?" Her voice was barely above an audible whisper.

"Just that," he replied, raising his chin. "_Them_." He exhaled sharply. "And there is more to worry about than just _Them_. There will be Others—those who will turn against us, against mankind."

Penny looked down at her hands and began to pick at them, blinking slowly. "So that's what all this training was for, all the religious paraphernalia that we stole the other day—" She looked up at him. "You're—you're preparing us for war?"

He nodded curtly, and she brought her hands up to her face to rub at her tired eyes.

"How long have you known?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear his answer.

"Too long."

She slid her hands up to her hair and ran her fingers through the messy tendrils, pulling at her ponytail in frustration.

"Why me, Sheldon?" Her expression was wounded. "Why did you take me instead of the others?"

"You know why," he said quietly, looking her calmly in the eyes.

She knew that he spoke the truth, although what that truth was remained hidden to her—for now.

"Maybe I do." She shook her head. "But I think another reason is that you don't want to be alone in all of this."

Sheldon blinked once and then twice before speaking softly, "No one wants to be alone, Penny."

Taking in a shuddering breath, Penny sighed an exhalation. No, no one wanted to be alone. She certainly didn't, and she was grateful that Sheldon had chosen her—had chosen to save her. But it was just all too much to take in at once. Eventually, she would cope and move on. She always did. Right now she was terrified and lost.

"So, where to next?" she asked, wiping away a tear before slapping her hands against her thighs.

"After the eclipse," he said, standing to his feet and helping Penny to hers, "we travel northeast by day on bicycles."

"To where?" She let go of his hand and followed him over to the table in the kitchen.

"New York," he answered, taking out a map from one of the bookcases.

"What's in New York?"

He unfolded a map of the United States and passed his finger over it. There were lines and circles and notes everywhere. Penny peered over his shoulder and saw more maps: state maps and guides with writing and highlighting all over them.

"I'm not sure yet," he answered distractedly, taking a seat, "but I'll find out." He looked up at her, giving her one of his confident smiles. "I will figure out what to do."

Penny weakly returned his smile and sat down beside him. She spread her palms out flat along the table and worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

"We need to head south first," she said determinedly.

"South?"

"We need to go back to Pasadena and see if Raj is okay."

Sheldon shook his head, closing the map. "No. It's too dangerous to even be in California."

Penny turned her head in shame, knowing that he was right. But still, she had to help save the ones she loved somehow.

"Fine," she said after a minute, curling her hands into fists, "then we're heading south to Texas before turning north to Nebraska."

"Penny—"

"No!" She slammed her fists down hard on the table. "If you want me with you, then I have a say in this."

Sheldon's left eyebrow twitched and he shook his head pitifully. "Penny, our families are most likely de—"

"Don't!" She raised her hand to silence him, her voice a watery cadence. "We have to _try_, Sheldon. If I'm important to your cause, then some of my ideas need to be followed." Her green eyes narrowed. "Understood?"

Sheldon stared at her unblinkingly for a moment, his own hands clenched into tight fists. The vein on his temple seemed to pulsate as his facial features distorted in anger and frustration and then finally acceptance. He lowered his head and let out a snort of air, uncurling his fists. His silence spoke volumes. Penny reached out and put her hand over his, squeezing it gently. He slowly looked up, his eyes searching hers, and she smiled sadly. Her bottom lip trembled.

"This is the end of our world, isn't it?"

"Yes," he answered softly, looking down at both their hands. "Yes, it is."

* * *

**PRESENT: OCTOBER 20, 2017**

Sheldon sat up in a panic, his long fingers clutching at the front of his sleeping bag. His face and neck were covered with a glistening sheen of sweat and his hair was damp, plastered against his forehead.

"Sheldon?" Penny sat up beside him in the dark. Her voice was laced with concern but it was also coiled with alertness. "What's wrong?"

"We have to leave," he answered tersely, throwing back the cover of his sleeping bag. "We have to leave NOW!"

* * *

**-x-**

**Author's notes: **O'Connor's prayer is from Psalm 7:9-10;12-13. Also, the idea of calling Dave "Doc" was taken from _Red vs Blue_, of which Sheldon is almost certainly familiar with—being a gamer and all.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**PAST: JUNE 23, 2017**

Three days of darkness had passed without interruption. No sounds could be heard overhead, no movements could be felt below, but both Penny and Sheldon knew that something evil was transpiring outside their safe little bunker. On the fourth day, at sunrise, Sheldon led Penny outside into the light. It was a blinding sort of light, as though His countenance was shining down upon them, banishing the wicked from the world. Unfortunately, this was not so.

The light itself spread across the valley, lifting shadows from the moor, and a small gasp escaped Penny's lips when she beheld the sight in front of her. The land had been laid bare to waste, a smoking ruin. The once fertile fields were scorched black; smoke and fire rose from the lake behind them, licking at the muddy waves. Penny turned and buried her face in Sheldon's chest, holding onto him tightly as though his body alone could shut out the horrific scene before them. His arms dangled limply at his sides as he stood tall and still, unyielding like a monolith. When she pulled away her tears had stained his shirt, and he glanced down in mild disgust before wiping a large palm down his chest.

"We have to go into town," he said darkly, still surveying the ruined valley with keen blue eyes.

"But, Sheldon ..." She paused, looking back at the house, which mercifully appeared unscathed—at least no more damaged than it had been before recent events. "I-I don't want to know what the rest of the world looks like."

He finally tore his eyes away from the indelible scene in front of him and glanced down at Penny, effectively silencing her protests with a pointed look.

"We must go into town, Penny."

Slowly, she released his arm and nodded in defeat.

"We should arm ourselves first," he said, heading back toward the bunker hatch. "Put on the cross necklace I gave you and gather some bottles of holy water into a pack."

"Wait! Sheldon!" Penny ran after him, sliding down the stairs. He had already made his way to the gun rack, taking down the Lupara and loading it swiftly before moving onto the next weapon.

"Do as I say," he ordered, loading fresh magazines into the 9mm Rugers and pocketing a few spares.

Penny entered her room and grabbed a backpack. Looping a strap over her shoulder, she bent down over her nightstand and picked up a silver necklace with a small cross on it—a piece of jewelry that Sheldon had given her before the military took him away. She unhooked the clasp and fastened the chain around her neck, placing her fingers over the cross. It was cool to the touch and nestled just below the hollow of her throat. Somehow it comforted her, and the not-knowing-why unsettled her.

"Take this," Sheldon said, as she came out of her room. He held out a leather belt with twin holsters.

Penny dropped the empty bag to the floor and took the belt from Sheldon, tying it around her waist and settling it down her hips. He then handed her two black and silver Rugers, which she slipped into place with a soft, leathery shucking sound. As Sheldon did the same, Penny picked up the bag and entered the storage room. There she went about her business entranced, gathering a half-dozen small glass bottles filled with holy water that they had absconded with less than a week ago.

"Ready?" Sheldon was already at the foot of the stairs.

Penny closed the pack and looped her arms through the straps before closing the door behind her with a soft click. Sheldon walked over to where she stood. He was carrying his Lupara and a sawed-off Winchester—the latter he tucked into one of the side straps of Penny's backpack. Geared-up, they both climbed out of the bunker, making sure to cover it with tarp, and made their way to the shed where they kept the truck. Luckily the vehicle was untouched. Setting her pack in between them, Penny started the truck and shifted it into gear.

"Where to first?" she asked, as they chugged along the desolate road.

"The church on Fifth Street," he answered solemnly, laying his gun across his lap.

She nodded and then gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Do you really think we're going to find anyone—any survivors?"

"No."

Penny blinked and looked over at Sheldon. "Then why are we going into town? We have all the supplies we need to last us for at least three years down there, maybe more." Her green eyes narrowed. "Are we just looking for trouble or satisfying your sick scientific curiosity?"

Sheldon slowly turned to face Penny and then pointed deliberately at the road. Letting out a huff of annoyance, Penny turned her attention back to what was in front of her.

"Well, what is it?" she asked, making the sharp turn onto the deserted rural highway. "Are we just going to go look at dead people?"

"I doubt we'll find any bodies," he replied mildly.

Penny stole a wary glance. "What do you mean? There's got to be tons of dead people. This place looks decimated." She motioned to the smoking fields with a wave of her hand before returning it to the steering wheel.

"_They_ don't leave much evidence behind," Sheldon answered cryptically, and Penny swerved slightly off the road before regaining control, eliciting a contemptuous scowl from Sheldon as he braced his hands against the dashboard.

"What—what do you mean?" Penny asked, a mild sort of panic rising in her voice. "You mean _They_—"

"_They_ eat their quarry," he finished glibly, taking out a box of shotgun cartridges and looping the bullets into the vacant holes of the leather belt he wore over his shoulder and across his chest.

"Sheldon—" Penny made a face and dry heaved twice before composing herself "—I don't want to see any of this." She began to moan pitifully, tears creeping into her eyes. "I just can't."

"You have to," he said, routinely slipping the ammunition into place. "We both have to."

* * *

The buildings on the outskirts of town had been completely destroyed and the rest of the town had not fared much better. Everything had turned into ash, dust, and fire. Sheldon had been right: there were no bodies on the streets and no signs of life whatsoever.

Penny parked the truck along Fifth Street and shouldered her pack, taking out the Winchester and feeling its cool, secure weight in the palms of her hands. A rusty hinge squalled monotonously in the distance, and Penny found herself laughing morbidly, wondering where such a sound could be coming from. Sheldon raised his hand for silence, and they both halted. Looking up, she could see the large stone church, or what remained of it. The front half of the steeple looked as though it had caved in or torn down, and it was still smoking with sulfur from within.

As they listened, there came a piercing scream like the sound of a wounded animal. Penny hugged the shotgun close to her chest and sprinted across the street, instinct taking over. Sheldon was after her in an instant, stopping her just before she stepped inside the church. His fingers deftly reached out and curled around her forearm like vices before pulling her back against him.

"Shel—"

His free hand moved to her mouth, cutting off her words. She jerked her neck back to look up at him; her green eyes were wide and frightened. Blue eyes, cold and intent, narrowed and he brought a finger to his lip to indicate silence. He then lowered his hand from her mouth and pointed back at the entryway. Penny listened and did as she was told, quietly following his finger to see where he was pointing.

She squinted against the harsh light that bloomed in the smoky sky and peered inside the din of the ruined church. She could see the outline of a massive creature. It was feebly flapping its wings, which seemed to be trapped by chunks of stone and mortar. It appeared to be wounded, continuing its incessant shrieking as though the confines of the church itself seemed to cause it pain; however, as Penny would soon learn, the thing was still far from impotent.

Penny let out an involuntary gasp, and the creature stopped its writhing for a moment to lunge forward with its talon or beak—she couldn't be sure as the beast seemed to shift and morph with each breath it took. Its long talon brushed violently against her collarbone, drawing blood. As beads of crimson bubbled to the surface and rolled down her collar, the cross on her neck began to hum, vibrating against her skin. The creature recoiled, its flesh burning as it touched the cross, and it cried out in pain, fresh screams erupting from its grotesque throat.

Sheldon already had his gun cocked, aiming it at the demon's head—a black, flat object with gleaming red eyes. The bullet reported home and then another and another. Penny opened fire in sync with Sheldon, emptying a round into its writhing body. But no matter how many bullets they pumped into the wretched thing, it would not fall; it would not die.

Dropping her gun and her pack, Penny pulled out the water bottles and handed a few to Sheldon. He unscrewed the top to one of them and threw it, the water cascading like rainfall on the demon. The glass shattered on the ground in front of it, ricocheting into the creature's flesh. Its blood-curdling wails intensified and its body burned from the water as though it were acid. Penny threw her own projectile while Sheldon thoughtfully stared down at the bottles and steadied her hand as she went to pick up another to lob.

"Wait," he said, taking the holy water from her fingers.

Sheldon then took a shotgun cartridge from out of his belt and poured the water onto it. Loading the shell into the gun, he cocked it and aimed it at the demon's head. The bullet hit the beast between the eyes and blood erupted from the gaping wound, flowing down its deformed face in rivulets. For a moment its grotesque body seemed to hang forward before its head simply lulled back and it fell, twitching quietly on the ground.

Penny and Sheldon stood together in silence, watching the demon pitch its final death throws, before Sheldon took out a long double-bladed knife and poured the holy water over it. He took a cautious step forward and then another, with Penny closely behind him. They both stood over the beast in awe. Penny's hands were on the Rugers, not trusting that there was no strength left inside the evil abomination. That was when her eyes became distracted, moving over the scene inside the church. Overturned pews did little to hide the bodies—the worshipers who had sought refuge in the house of God. When she saw the stilled, tiny hand wrapped around the limb of a teddy bear, something deep inside Penny snapped. She grabbed the knife from Sheldon's hand and rushed forward with a scream of rage and sorrow before falling to her knees and stabbing the dying—_dead_—thing in front of her.

She did not even feel the knife slip in her grasp and slice her palm as she drove the blade home—again and again and again. Nor did she feel the tears dampen her face or feel Sheldon's hands reach out to pull her back and up against him. She dropped the knife, the demon's blood mixing with hers—with her tears and her sweat—and she turned to bury her face in Sheldon's chest, crying pitifully.

Was this faith's reward? Was this her destiny? Was this his?

"I had a dream," Sheldon said softly into her hair, holding her awkwardly as he looked down at the beast with disgust. "I was told to come here—to figure out how to fight _Them_."

Penny lifted her face from his chest and craned her neck to look up into his clear blue eyes; her own were watery and bloodshot.

"We have to kill them with faith, with blessed objects and holy water." His eyes lingered on her neck and he grimaced as he fingered the necklace that lay against her throat. "Funny, Mother always told me that the cross would protect me. But I've never had faith, Penny." He let go of the pendant and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I can't do this alone."

Suddenly, Penny stepped back out of Sheldon's grip and bowed her head, spilling the contents of her breakfast onto the pavement and his shoes.

"I can't do this, Sheldon." She was wheezing, still doubled over as she wiped the spittle from her mouth. "I can't do this again."

Sheldon winced and toed the egg off his boots before bending down to gather her gun and the unused bottles of holy water.

"You can, Penny," he said coldly and confidently. "You _will_ do it again because it's your purpose in this new world ... like mine."

* * *

**PRESENT: OCTOBER 20, 2017**

"Sheldon?" Penny's voice was thick with concern, but her eyes were alert. "What's wrong?"

Sheldon threw back the covers of his sleeping bag; his body was slippery with sweat. "We have to leave. We have to leave NOW!"

Before Sheldon could draw breath to repeat the order, shapes and shadows spilled in through the window, seeming to twist against the walls. It was the only warning they were given before a great tremor shook the foundations of the building and an enormous body crashed through the wall in front of them as though it were merely tissue paper.

Penny immediately wheeled on the demon with her Winchester that she kept beside her while she slept, aiming for its head as she fired off a round. The creature seemed to have no face or shape but only what the imagination gave it, although its wings and talons were very much real, slicing through the air with great ferocity. O'Connor and Doc were already on their feet; Doc was gathering his weapons while Cecilia swallowed back a scream and shielded Eve with her body. Sheldon was gone, in the back room or God only knew where, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves.

Running forward, Penny felt a sudden surge of churning vertigo, and the scene before her seemed to twist and spin. Despite her intention to move forward, she found herself veering off course toward Cecilia and Eve, yanking them back with her. Time seemed to skip, and when she finally came to her senses, her guns were already blazing in her hands. Yelling for Sheldon, Penny was unable to reload in time before another beast broke through the wall. It rushed straight for O'Connor and, in one sickening second, wrenched the padre's head clean off his shoulders. It had happened so quickly that all Penny could do was just stand there and blink.

"Jesus Christ!" Doc yelled and then screamed as one of the demon's lunged forward and took a slice at him, nicking his femoral artery.

He scrambled backward, applying pressure to the wound, but Penny could see the blood spurting from his thigh like a fountain. He had little time left and no way out. The bulbous-eyed creature threw the priest's head in one direction and his body in another and made a move toward Doc. That's when a third demon burst through.

Penny finished reloading and gathered her gear. She took out several round glass bottles and threw each in turn at a beast, causing all three to recoil and screech in agony, hissing like the burnt flesh that peeled off their twisted bodies.

"Oh God! Oh God!" Cecilia cried, holding Eve close. They were only a few feet from the office door, which happened to be guarded by the ungodly creatures.

"God isn't going to save us now," Penny said in a thick voice, slipping the strap over her shoulder and aiming her gun. "RUN!"

Cecilia and Eve took off in a sprint behind Penny into the other room and down the hall, to where the building connected to the warehouse—another means of escape.

"Doc!" Penny yelled, firing as she retreated backwards. "C'mon."

"Go!" he ordered back, letting go of his leg and aiming his gun high. "I've got these bastards!"

"Fuck!" Penny swore before turning, taking off in a dead run down the corridor, knowing that it was too late for the medic, just as he knew it. She could hear the thick screams of Doc behind her as her boots connected with the tiled floor and already she could hear the demons tearing down the hallway after her. She dared not look back.

"Sheldon!"

Her pack and weapons felt like lead on her back, weighing her down. She could feel the demon's sulfuric breath on her neck as if it were right on top of her, and she burst into the warehouse to see Cecilia and Eve standing beside the exit. Sheldon was flitting around the room, gathering papers and gadgets.

"There's no time for this!" She ran over to the exit and saw why Cecilia and Eve hadn't left. There were three more demons outside. But behind them was a Jeep, the one that Sheldon and Doc had been working on earlier for an emergency such as this one. God willing, they had fixed it and it would start.

"Take Eve," Cecilia said suddenly, shoving the girl into Penny's arms.

"Cecilia?" Penny held the girl with her free hand and watched as the brunette withdrew both her guns and opened the door.

"I will give you the time you need."

"No!" Penny feebly reached out to stop the younger woman.

"Keep her safe," Cecilia said, her back against the door. Her voice wavered in her throat, but her eyes were hard and determined. "I believe in Sheldon, and I believe in you." Tears streaked down her cheeks as she tried to offer Penny a brave smile. "Save the children, Penny. Save them all."

Without a second thought, Cecilia took off outside, heading to the right away from the vehicle. Guns blazing, she didn't make it far before she was impaled by two demons, slicing her from torso to neck. The ungodly creatures then gathered around, their maws greedy for blood and flesh. Penny barely managed to swallow back a sob before Sheldon was beside her, picking up Eve and grabbing Penny by the arm and rushing them toward the Jeep.

"Get in," he ordered, jumping into the driver's side so that he could hot-wire the vehicle. "I've got this."

Penny threw their gear and Eve in the backseat, sliding into the passenger side. The car roared to life, grabbing the attention of the feasting demons, and Penny climbed over top of Sheldon.

"Get over," she commanded, and Sheldon complied, maneuvering himself into the backseat with Eve.

As he rummaged through his pack, Penny shifted the Jeep into gear and took off across the field, hoping to come across a road. They barely made it a hundred yards before the building and warehouse exploded, erupting into flames and sending fireballs into the air.

"What the fuck?" Penny glanced in the rear-view mirror at the inferno behind her.

Sheldon held up a hand-held device with a button on top. "I rigged the building and warehouse to explode," he explained, before placing the Lupara between his legs.

So that is what he had been doing, setting up charges. Penny couldn't get over his cold calculation. Was this the kind of person she was becoming? Was she just as cold and uncaring? No. Cecilia's and Doc's and O'Connor's sacrifices all meant something to her. Didn't they?

"Do you think—" She stopped herself short. What was the point in asking if the others could have still been alive when Sheldon blew up the building? It would have been a better way to go than being eaten alive.

"No one's alive," he answered tersely, as though reading her mind. "Drive faster. _They're_ coming."

Penny looked back in the rear-view mirror and saw the shape of wings flapping in the star-studded sky. She made a sharp turn onto the highway and headed east, dodging the few cars that remained stationary on the road.

"Fuck! I can't shake it!" she yelled, hearing the demon's cries echoing behind her.

"I can," Sheldon said, delving into his pack. He took out the box of grenades and opened the lid, handing two explosives to Eve. "Bless these."

The little girl took the grenades in her hands and frowned, her hazel eyes shining in the dim moonlight.

"Say your prayers, baby," Penny said, reaching back to briefly put a hand on the girl's arm. "Say them in your head and then give the grenades to Sheldon."

Eve held the explosives in her tiny hands and closed her eyes, silently moving her lips. Opening her eyes, she handed both grenades over to Sheldon, who took the pin out of one of them and held the clip tightly in his right hand.

"Slow down," he ordered. "Let it catch up."

Penny obeyed, taking her foot off the gas pedal. The demon was closer now, so close that Penny could see its evil red eyes gleaming in the side mirror where it read "Objects in mirror are closer than they appear." Its ravenous maw had opened wide, screaming a banshee wail that shook Penny to her bones. Sheldon then brought his arm back and lobbed the grenade into the creature's mouth.

"Go!"

Penny pushed down on the gas pedal and took off. The explosion was almost instantaneous, hitting the car and sending it forward as chunks of demon sprayed the vehicle and the back of Penny's neck.

"Jesus Christ!" she gasped, turning around to look at Sheldon and Eve, who were both crouched down low in their seats.

"Keep driving until I tell you to stop," Sheldon ordered, sitting up and looking behind them to see if any more demons were following them.

There appeared to be no more in sight, so he pointed to the floor and ordered Eve to stay down while he placed their gear protectively around her like a barrier.

"Where to?" Penny asked, as Sheldon climbed up front into the passenger seat.

"Chicago, if you can," he replied, putting on his seatbelt with Penny following suit.

"Why can't we just stop at the nearest church?" She could feel the cold seeping into her fingers and she just wanted to get somewhere safe—fast.

Sheldon fiddled with the buttons near the dash, raising the roof and locking it into place so that they were no longer freezing from the cold October wind.

"Because I don't know what road we're on right now or where the nearest church would be," he answered in clipped tones. "My Iowa map is back at that smoking ruin of a building." He glanced down at his watch. "Besides, the sun will be rising in less than forty minutes and we might as well take advantage of our mode of transportation."

Penny let out a shuddering sigh and nodded, collecting her nerves. "So what's in Chicago?" she asked, closing the windows and turning on the heat.

"The airport."

**-x-**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**PAST: JULY 31, 2017 **

It took Penny and Sheldon more than five weeks to bike all the way down to Galveston, Texas from Tehama, California. The trek itself was long and very, _very_ hot. They couldn't travel at night when it was cool but rather during the day in the sweltering heat, which made the journey in itself incredibly taxing. They would often have to stop and rest, unable to travel every day. Sometimes Sheldon would find a place that he wanted to check out and they would secure it, if it was empty—and most of the time it was. Occasionally, they were shown the door at the end of a shotgun barrel, but such incidents had become few and far between as the days and weeks passed. Sheldon estimated that at least sixty percent of the American population had been culled by the meteor shower and demon attacks during the eclipse. Those left were being systematically hunted by human and non-human predators alike.

In order to avoid detection, they were always on the move, and Penny often wondered if this was how sharks felt—to not stop swimming or die. She was tired; it felt like they had been traveling nonstop. Of course they had found abandoned houses to stay in at night, confining themselves to the basements and sleeping restlessly or not at all. They never camped outside unless there was absolutely no other option. Those few nights they did had been the scariest nights of their lives. Luckily on one of those nights, Sheldon had managed to locate an abandoned coyote den, which they had set up camp under. They hadn't caught a wink of sleep that night, and Penny couldn't have been more eager to travel south the next morning—the sweltering heat withstanding.

In the beginning, Sheldon had been angry with her for making them travel south to Texas. He had not planned on heading in that direction and therefore had no designated safe houses mapped out; also, he had no clear lay of the land while traveling through states like Nevada and Arizona. It was risky and dangerously idiotic for them to move through such large and open desert-like areas. But after locating a few good spots in which they could set up, Sheldon had become somewhat placated. Now they had places to stay if they were to ever head back down through that area again. Penny doubted it, but it was nice to know that they had options and could find refuge if need be—or at least direct survivors to safe places to stay.

Penny had never thought to question Sheldon why they didn't settle down at one of their safe houses and rebuild some sort of community or look for survivors to bring with them on their travels (even though they had yet to meet anyone who was willing to join them). Somehow it seemed right to be on the road with just the two of them. They would find guidance and traveling companions when the time was right, which was most likely when Sheldon deemed it so.

When they finally arrived at Sheldon's hometown just outside the coastal city of Galveston, they had already prepared themselves for the worst. There was always the chance that Sheldon's family had survived, but it was slim. Mary Cooper, however, was a survivor and someone who fully believed in Judgment Day. If anyone had prepared for this event, then it would have been her. They could only pray that no one else figured this out too.

Penny and Sheldon rode their bikes through the town, which lay in ruin like all the other towns and villages they had passed along the way. They had kept clear of all major cities on their travels, to avoid gangs and marauders, but they could always smell the ash and tar in the air and see the fire and smoke rise and trail up above the horizon. Galveston was no different, except that the majority of the city was flooded near the coast.

Turning down the familiar cul-de-sac, Sheldon and Penny stopped their bikes just outside of Mary Cooper's house. The building seemed intact, but the yard was littered with debris and overgrown grass. They slowly got off their bicycles and placed them in the shed in the backyard, dropping the rest of their gear on the ground and hiding them with their bikes. With their weapons in hand, Penny and Sheldon made their way to the back door of the house, alert for anyone or anything nearby that could jump out at them. Sheldon lowered the Lupara so that he could fish a set of keys out of his pocket. Finding the appropriately labeled one, he inserted it in the lock and turned. After an audible click, he removed the key and put his fingers on the knob, turning gently to open the door. Once inside, the air hit them in the face; it was stale and musty, as it was with all the deserted houses that they had entered on their long trek to Texas. It was the smell of abandon.

Sheldon let Penny inside before closing the door and locking it behind her. Then he slowly began to perambulate around the kitchen, a large room located at the back door that they had just entered through. There seemed to be no sign of life whatsoever in the house, but they both knew from experience that this did not mean that someone wasn't living in the basement. Still, there were no footprints on the dusty floor or any evidence of a squatter on the premise. Maybe it truly was deserted.

Penny held the Winchester close to her chest and watched Sheldon closely. His eyes were calculating and his movements were methodical, but she could detect a hint of dismay creeping into his face, elongating his features. Silently, he pointed to a hallway off to the right and began to walk that way while Penny followed closely behind. At the end of the corridor was a door, presumably leading downstairs into the basement. Sheldon quietly turned the knob and the door swung opened without protest. He already had his flashlight out; holding it alongside his gun as he slowly descended the stairs.

His boots made a hollow thudding noise as they scraped along the dusty wooden planks. Penny had her flashlight aimed down at the stairs, seeing no footprints leading up or down. Sheldon motioned for her to stay at the top of the landing while he scouted the rest of basement. She did as told and waited, watching as Sheldon's flashlight flickered back and forth across the ground. The fine hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up and she somehow felt more nervous inside this house than outside at night where the big bads could devour her whole. There was just something unsettling about the place, something horribly Texas Chainsaw Massacre about the situation that they were in right now.

A moment passed and then another; a bead of sweat rolled down Penny's temple. Suddenly, Sheldon's voice boomed from below:

"There's no one here." He climbed the stairs and glanced up at her with a grimace on his dirty face.

"Maybe your family left—went to a shelter?" Penny offered, although from the look on Sheldon's face she doubted that was so.

"I'm going to check upstairs," he said quietly. "I'll bring down some blankets and pillows. There are a couple of cots down there. We can sleep here tonight." He pointed at the back door. "We should bring the bikes and gear inside so no one sees them."

Penny nodded, already making her way back down the hall. "I'll go get them."

When she returned inside the house with both their packs in hand, she could hear Sheldon rummaging around upstairs, his quiet footfalls echoing on the floor. On her third trip back, with her own bike slung over her shoulder, Penny was greeted by Sheldon, who was already sitting at the kitchen table with a note in his hands.

"Sheldon?" She was surprised by how meek her own voice sounded to her ears.

He ignored her and continued to look at the letter. He didn't appear to be reading it at all, just staring at it. Before Penny could call his name again, he folded the letter and slipped it inside the envelope that sat next to his right hand.

"They're dead," he said tonelessly, stuffing the envelope into his jacket pocket.

Penny stood perfectly still, shell-shocked, not knowing what to say or do to help him. Sheldon then stood to his feet and walked over to where she stood, taking the bike from her hands and pushing it into the living room. In turn, she grabbed his bike and followed closely behind.

"Sheldon?"

He set the bike against the southern wall and sat down on the dusty sofa, staring blankly at the television set in front of him. Penny leaned Sheldon's bike against the wall and sat down beside him, laying her gun on the table before resting her head against his shoulder. He didn't move or say a word; they just sat together in the living room with the warm afternoon sun soaking in from the window.

"Mom wrote that Missy and Junior never made it home before the meteor shower." His voice was thick and unused, cracking slightly in his throat. He simply stared forward, his eyes blank and unblinking, as though he was in a trance. "The coastal city was flooded, taking out the southern section of the highway—"

Penny squeezed his arm, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

"Mom—" he took in a shaky breath "—Mom waited during the eclipse, but when none of her children returned home to her and everyone outside was being attacked, she thought the best thing for her to do was to go to church and—" Sheldon laughed bitterly "—wait for a sign from God."

Penny felt him tremble against her cheek and she reached up, nuzzling her face into his neck. He leaned into her, slowly sinking down until his head was resting on her lap. He circled his arms around her waist and held on tightly but did not cry. She leaned back and ran her fingers through his hair, which had become long and shaggy since they left California. She closed her eyes and worried her bottom lip with her teeth, trying not to think about the fate of her own parents.

"I'm so sorry, Sheldon," she whispered tearfully, still stroking his hair.

In that moment Penny would have done anything to take away his pain. To see Sheldon vulnerable like this, when he had been so strong the past eight months, made her heart break—made her doubt the path that they were on. But now it was her turn to be strong and be there for him.

They lay like this for an hour, Penny stroking his hair and trying not to think, until Sheldon raised himself off her lap and leveled his dry, cobalt blue eyes on her.

"We have to go to the church," he said with a gruff voice, standing to his feet. "We can walk there. It's only a few miles from here."

Penny reached up to touch his hand. "Sheldon—"

"I have to see, Penny," he said, his voice as strong and resolute as ever. "I have to see for myself."

* * *

They made their way along the road, weaving around fallen trees and parked cars. Eventually they came to a crossroads where the intersecting streets widened out, creating a sort of town square. The place looked decimated, as though ravaged by a tornado; although, it was more likely that a few earthquakes and maybe even a hurricane had wreaked this much havoc. Some of the streets to the south looked badly flooded and those roads that were not eroded by water were overrun with grass and weeds—giving the area a sort of return to wilderness feel to it.

On the southwest corner of the square was the town's only stone building—the church. Like the many city churches that they had come across during their travels, the outer building was slightly ruined, caved in at the front; otherwise the inner architecture appeared to be preserved and mostly intact. Often Penny and Sheldon took refuge in these pious sanctuaries as those buildings on the outskirts of towns or off major highways were usually spared, unlike their city brethren.

Sheldon took in a deep breath and made his way toward the church. They entered through the ruined front entrance, slowly walking down the center aisle. Their eyes passed over the splintered and upturned pews. There were no bodies in sight. Sheldon had said that _They_ ate their prey, but in each ruined church that Sheldon and Penny had come across they had always found bodies. It was as though the demons were unable to desecrate human remains on sanctified ground.

"May I help you?"

Penny and Sheldon snapped their heads up, following the sound of the voice with the unmistakable Irish lilt. Weapons raised, they glanced up at the altar to see a stranger standing in front of them. He was a short man with gray hair, bent but otherwise sturdy, seeming to carry a great strength inside him. His eyes were a light blue, almost milky in color. His face was kind and handsome, even in his advanced age, which appeared to be sixty or more. He wore all black except for a white collar on his throat, indicating that he was a priest.

"Who are you and where are the people who were in this church?" Penny asked quickly, leveling her rifle at the man.

"Please lower your weapons and I will tell you what you need to know," he said, making a motion with his hands. His right hand was empty while his left held rosary beads.

Penny watched Sheldon with her peripheral vision and waited for him to lower his gun first. After a long pause he did just that, and Penny followed suit with a silent sigh of relief. She really didn't want to kill a man of the cloth—not before dinner anyway.

"The name's Patrick O'Connor," the priest said, walking down the aisle to meet them. "Father O'Connor."

"What is a Catholic priest doing in a Southern Baptist church?" Sheldon asked suspiciously.

"Why is this Baptist church so old and made of stone?" O'Connor asked in return, smiling jovially.

Sheldon's right eyebrow twitched. "It used to be a Catholic church before it was converted."

"I see," O'Connor said with a nod. "Well, to answer your question properly: _any_ church is the house of God."

"Great," Penny growled, slapping her gun against the thigh of her dusty blue denims, "now answer the first question: what happened to the people inside here?"

"I buried them," the priest said, clasping his hands together in prayer before bowing his head.

The air suddenly became thick and honeyed with silence until Penny took a step forward, her boots dragging along the wooden floor.

"What happened?" The look in her eyes was accusing, damning. "Why didn't you try to protect them?"

O'Connor looked taken aback by her anger. "I wasn't here when it happened. My church is in Austin. I was there when everything ..." He paused, suddenly looking ill. "When everything first happened."

"Why did you come all the way here?" Sheldon asked, suddenly looking more tired than distrustful.

"I could ask you the same," O'Connor retorted curiously, looking from Sheldon to Penny. "Your accent isn't from around here."

"I grew up here!" Sheldon snapped; his ire was ignited.

"My apologies—" the priest gave another humble bow "—but you traveled a long way to get here, did you not?"

Penny eyed O'Connor suspiciously. "How do you know that?"

"Why, the dreams, of course," he answered, as though it were obvious. "Surely you've had them too."

Penny shook her head and hooked her thumb in Sheldon's direction. "He has." The priest gave her a puzzled look, and she folded her arms underneath her breasts in a defensive manner. "What? I haven't."

O'Connor nodded slowly, lowering his hands in an attempt to placate her. Sheldon, however, seemed neither angry nor suspicious. He had the look of a determined man yet to face his defeat.

"Were the people you buried—were any of them women in their fifties?" he asked, and the priest sharply turned to regard the tall Texan with sympathetic eyes.

"There—there were a few," he answered, speaking softly.

Sheldon took a heavy step forward. "She'd be a woman around her height—" he pointed at Penny "—with dark hair and brown eyes." His face suddenly reminded Penny of a child's. "Looks a bit like me?"

O'Connor licked his dry lips and cast his eyes downward. "There may have been."

Sheldon was already standing in front of the priest, his eyes narrowed. "Please take me to where you buried them."

"Of course." O'Connor looked up at Sheldon, his rheumatic blue eyes glistening. "Follow me."

Turning, O'Connor led Sheldon and Penny around the back of the church and outside to a small cemetery where a dozen fresh graves lay visible.

"I buried them in hallowed ground," the priest told them softly. "They will not be disturbed by the de—"

"Don't call _Them_ that!" Sheldon yelled; his hands were raised and balled tightly into fists. "Don't ever call _Them_ that in my presence! Understand?"

Penny was already beside him, putting a comforting hand on Sheldon's arm.

"Were ..." She paused, looking over at O'Connor, who was still stunned by Sheldon's sudden outburst. "How did they die?"

Sheldon turned and stared at the priest, waiting for his answer. O'Connor could only shrug and grab the shovel that lay against the stone wall.

"I cannot say for certain," he said, walking over to where Sheldon stood, "but I believe that most of them perished when the roof collapsed." He pointed up at the caved steeple with his free hand. "I'd like to think that they all went relatively quickly."

Sheldon nodded and lowered his head before taking in a deep breath through his nose and exhaling raggedly.

"Thank you, Father." He glanced over at the fresh graves and pointed. "Do you remember where you buried the women?"

O'Connor nodded and walked over to a warn path, showing Sheldon the grave where he buried someone of Mary Cooper's description. Sheldon took the shovel from the priest and immediately began digging; he didn't stop until he found what he was looking for—what he had hoped to never see.

* * *

They had all returned home before sunset. Sheldon immediately went down to the basement where he collapsed on one of the cots, not even bothering to enact his nightly rituals. Penny gave O'Connor a light and showed him to the bathroom. Thanks to the flooding in the backyard they had an ample supply of water, which gave them the ability to flush the toilets—one of the small luxuries in life now. Penny had gathered more blankets and pillows from the linen closet before grabbing one of the twin mattresses off the bed in Sheldon's old room and dragging it down into the basement. She would offer the bed to the padre while she took the cot, which was only slightly more comfortable than the ground.

As she threw the mattress down the stairs, she glanced over at Sheldon. He was facing the wall, curled up on his side, but Penny knew that he was awake. She just had no idea what to say or do for him. It was her idea that they travel south against his wishes. Now he had just spent the entire day digging up his mother's makeshift grave before burying her again.

Would it have been better if they hadn't come? Were they supposed to have met O'Connor here? Were they supposed to all travel together to New York? And why were Sheldon and O'Connor having dreams and she wasn't? It was all too fucked up for her to comprehend.

"Thank you, Penny," Sheldon said quietly from the corner. He had turned over on his side to face her. His eyes were red and puffy. He had been crying silently—too silently for her to notice.

"Thank you?" she repeated, confused.

He nodded, sitting up in his cot. "I needed to know what happened to my family. I needed closure." He ran his long fingers through his dark, messy hair. "I couldn't—I couldn't start this journey that we're on if I was always wondering about them, about Mom."

Penny walked over to Sheldon and knelt down in front of him, reaching out to hold his hands.

"I wish I could share your vision, Sheldon," she said; her eyes searched his before she looked down in shame and frustration. "I wish I were as sure as you are, but I—but I trust you, Sheldon." She lifted her chin to meet his gaze, tears brimming in her eyes. "I know you'll keep me safe."

Sheldon stared at her for a moment before letting go of her hands and settling back into bed.

"You can take care of yourself, Penny," he said mildly. "Better than I ever could."

Laughing, Penny sniffed loudly and then wiped the back of her hand along her nose. "Right."

They both shared an uncomfortable silence, which was broken by O'Connor's voice entreating softly from the top of the stairs:

"Is it alright if I join you?"

Penny turned around and rose to her feet, still wiping away her tears.

"Of course," she answered, and then went to gather some blankets and set them down on the mattress. "This is _your_ luxury suite for the night, padre."

She smiled and pointed at the makeshift bed, which caused the priest to return her smile with a charming one of his own.

"It's more comfortable than the places I've been staying at for the past month," he said, setting the lamp on the floor as he awkwardly lowered himself onto the mattress.

Penny wiped her damp hands along the front of her jeans and went about unfolding her cot.

"It is nice to sleep in a house again," she commented with a sigh, glancing about the dark room.

"It is."

O'Connor took a small silver flask out of his jacket pocket and unscrewed the top. He handed it out to Penny, who refused with a polite shake of her head, and then tipped the bottle back and took a healthy swig. He then set the flask down beside the lamp and turned it off, settling into bed.

Once her own cot was unfolded, Penny quickly followed suit and climbed inside. Sighing, she glanced at Sheldon's back one last time before dampening the light and drifting off into her first restful sleep in well over a month.

* * *

**PRESENT: OCTOBER 20, 2017**

Penny drove two and a half hours nonstop, until the traffic of parked cars became too thick to traverse between. She parked the Jeep on the side of the road while Sheldon grabbed their gear and headed away from the highway. Picking up Eve, Penny followed Sheldon and they made their way to what looked like a group of houses. The area itself was old and small—a hamlet at best. There were two intersections and a collection of Victorian-style houses, an empty-looking gas station, and a church.

Without much thought, they headed toward the sanctuary of the church. The doors were unlocked, immediately making Penny and Sheldon uneasy. They withdrew their weapons and entered slowly, keeping Eve in between them. It wasn't likely for a demon to be inside, but sometimes gangs took up residence in these holy buildings, making it their base of operations since it was neutral territory and safe—well, safe for the most part.

Preparing for the worst, they barged inside with their guns raised.

Nothing. It was empty.

Letting out a collective sigh of relief, they lowered their weapons and quickly scanned the pews. Sometimes they had to worry about dead bodies—people who had been praying during the apocalypse and were attacked inside by marauders or scavengers. But the church itself looked to be empty, unused.

Penny holstered her weapon and dropped her gear on a nearby bench.

"Well, we made great time," she said, rubbing her eyes with the edge of her palms. "We should have driven all along."

"Funny," Sheldon replied without a trace of mirth in his voice. He then set down his pack so that he could remove his sleeping bag. "Let's get some rest here and then we can make our way to the airport in the morning."

Penny nodded and took out her own sleeping bag, carrying it up toward the altar where there was more space and a plush carpet.

"How about you make your way there now?"

Sheldon and Penny turned toward the sound of the voice; their guns were already in their hands, pointed at the stranger. This was the second time a man had caught them unaware in a church.

The man, who was tall with blond hair and a pirate-looking smile, was leaning against the doorframe with a rifle rested against his shoulder. Appearance-wise he looked relatively relaxed and at ease, but there was something in his eyes—eyes that were not quite trusting—that burrowed into theirs so intently. But then they didn't trust him either, so the intensity was mutual.

"Please, come with us," a woman offered in a soft yet strong voice, stepping inside the church. She stood next to the blond man, who instantly stood upright in her presence. "We will give you food and shelter."

The woman, who appeared far less threatening, was tall and perhaps in her early forties, with long, dark hair and umber-tanned skin. Her face was gentle and kind, like her voice, but that tone of hers seemed to carry a great authority. There were no weapons in her hands, but there was a belt and holster hanging on her shapely hips.

She put her hand on the blond man's arm, and he immediately relaxed at her touch, indicating that she was either the man's lover or the leader. From the look of the numerous shadows that loomed outside the church, indicating that there were more people waiting out there, it seemed more obvious that this woman was the latter.

"Who are you?" Sheldon asked in a growling voice.

With his gun raised, he stepped in between Penny and Eve and the two strangers standing in the doorway. The tall woman did not look intimidated by Sheldon's gun nor did she appear upset. Instead she smiled, taking a few slow steps forward while extending her hand out to him.

"You can call me Rose." She lowered her hand with a strained smile when she saw that neither Penny nor Sheldon would take it.

Penny placed a free hand on Eve's shoulder, gripping it tightly when she saw the way Rose smiled at the little girl. It wasn't exactly a distrustful smile, but it was peculiar. Not many of the gangs and marauders that they had run into had understood the importance of children, especially one as special as Eve. This Rose woman seemed to know somehow, and Penny wondered why—and how.

"I'm Nebraska," Penny said tersely, lowering her own weapon and pointing to Sheldon. "This here is East Texas."

Rose smiled, bent down, and placed her hands on her thighs so that she could get a better look at Eve.

"And who might you be, little one?" she asked, laughing softly as Eve shyly hid behind Sheldon's leg.

"This is Eve," Sheldon said in clipped tones, fully lowering his weapon. "She's mute."

Rose nodded, as though this wasn't unusual, and stood back up.

"We have a camp not too far from here. There are thirty of us in total." Her eyes narrowed, showing Penny and Sheldon the first sign of unease on her face. "We will feed and equip you for your journey, but we must blindfold you before we take you to our safe house."

Penny opened her mouth to reply, but Rose cut her off.

"We do not wish you any harm, but we cannot allow our location to be given away." She swallowed uneasily, making an audible click at the back of her throat, and looked down to the left before raising her sea-green eyes to meet Sheldon's. "The enemy is not above torturing travelers to get information about our whereabouts."

Sheldon said nothing in response, staring unblinkingly back at the woman. Then he lowered his shotgun and set it down on one of the pews. Penny did the same and took Eve by the shoulders, holding her close.

"We appreciate your hospitality," Sheldon said mildly, watching Rose closely, "and we accept your terms."

Rose smiled and lifted her hand, not bothering to turn, and signaled for the man at the door to come forward. Another man took his place while the blond sauntered toward Sheldon, taking out several black sacks. In less than a minute, Penny, Sheldon, and Eve were blindfolded and taken into the arms of others—of whom they could not yet be certain were allies or enemies.

**-x-**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**PAST: SEPTEMBER 7, 2017**

"Are we there yet?"

Sheldon whined petulantly from behind, reminding Penny of days long-gone. The three of them had been biking down the desolate highway since sunrise and Sheldon hadn't shut up the entire time. Penny, used to the physicist's complaining, rolled her eyes heavenward but eagerly biked ahead; her heart was drumming loudly in her chest.

"It's just over this hill," she panted, pointing to the left of a decaying cornfield.

It was refreshing to see the endless cornfields of Nebraska again. They had stayed in Texas longer than Penny would have liked, doing and seeing things she'd rather forget, and the trek northward had been surprisingly difficult. One thing that had helped was Sheldon's revelation that O'Connor could anoint their weapons and ammunition, no longer needing to rely on their dwindling supply of holy water. Although the padre was now an integral part of their traveling group, it seemed as though _They_ were on their trail double-fold. Somehow the trio would encounter a demon almost every night before they settled in, and it had become Penny's task to kill them silently with bow and arrow (a weapon she had picked up in Texas and later lost in Kansas) while O'Connor recited a prayer.

They did more than kill demons on their travels; they saved people, too. Sheldon had managed to secure a few safe houses along the way, from Kansas to Oklahoma. The trio would then stay at the house for a few days or a week, gathering supplies and helping set up the survivors, before taking off again. In addition to stockpiling, they tried their best to fortify the safe houses and establish a means of communication, giving those they left behind shortwave radios.

The survivors were just grateful to have a place to stay; however, Sheldon would often tell them that "no place is safe, only safer." It eventually became his survival motto, much to Penny's chagrin. But no matter where they stayed it never felt like home. When they finally made it to Omaha, Nebraska, Penny all but took off ahead, leaving O'Connor and Sheldon struggling to keep up.

"Right up here!" she said excitedly, turning the bike and making her way up the long driveway to her parents' old farmhouse.

Pumping her legs, she climbed the steep hill and shucked the bicycle into the bush. The muscles in her legs felt hot and rubbery, and she wobbled up the path. Only a few feet from the door, she held up her hand and signaled for Sheldon and O'Connor to stop.

"My parents will be armed," she warned with a slight tremor in her voice. "Keep your weapons down or it will be a shoot-first-ask-questions-later scenario."

O'Connor was wheezing, exhausted, and raised his empty hands with a grin. He never carried a gun unless he was holding it for someone. Sheldon, who was still sitting on his bicycle, nodded and kept his Lupara on his back. Once Penny turned to head up to the house, however, he unbuttoned the flaps on his gun holsters and stepped off the bike.

Penny ran up to the house like a little girl, her pack jiggling against her back. She opened the front door, which was unlocked, and Sheldon frowned. The area looked relatively untouched by the earthquakes and storms, and it would have made a great place for a safe house, at least a temporary one. Any farmhouse with livestock and crops would have been quickly coveted by gangs—and that was one of the reasons why Sheldon was left feeling uneasy.

"Mom! Dad!" Penny yelled, blindly walking through the door without a second thought to her safety. "It's me, _Penny_!"

"Penny!" Sheldon hissed warningly, his hands resting on the holsters.

"MOM!" Penny cried again, her voice no longer subdued but panicked. "DAD!"

She ran upstairs while O'Connor and Sheldon quickly followed her inside, looking cautiously around the rest of the house. There were small tracks—a dog, perhaps—in the dust on the floor and something else: footprints.

"PENNY!" Sheldon roared; his Lupara was already out.

Penny came running down the stairs with tears in her eyes. "They're not here," she whispered, and Sheldon beckoned her toward him.

"Someone's here," he said in a low voice, pointing at the tracks, and Penny's face visibly blanched. "I'm going to check the basement. Where is it?"

Penny's eyes narrowed on the footstep as she pointed absently behind her. "We have a root cellar at the back of the pantry."

Sheldon stared hard at Penny for a moment before nodding to O'Connor, and they both made their way toward the cellar. Penny already had one of her Rugers drawn and was pointing it at the ground, following the tracks along the floor. They led past the living room and into the kitchen, trailing to the cupboard doors underneath the sink.

Penny cocked her gun as fresh, angry tears stung her eyes. "You're going to die screaming, bastard."

She reached down with her left hand to yank open the cupboard doors before closing both hands around the gun—finger on the trigger, ready to fire. Two small, dirty feet stuck out of the cupboard and then a small animal leaped out, yipping excitedly. Shocked, Penny lowered her gun and then holstered it, swallowing dryly.

"Pen—"

"I'm okay, Sheldon," she answered in a thick voice, slowly lowering to her knees in front of the sink.

The puppy, which was no more than three months old, was a chocolate Labrador Retriever. It was skinny and mangy and almost as dirty as the two bare feet she saw sticking out of the cupboard.

"A dog?"

O'Connor's eyes were lit with curiosity as he stood beside the less intrigued Sheldon, who regarded the dog with cool detachment. The puppy then yipped and ran over to the padre and jumped up on his leg, causing the older man to laugh and reach down to ruffle the dog's floppy ears.

"It must be starving. Let's see what I've got for you, pup."

O'Connor took off his pack and began rummaging for food, taking out a package of beef jerky. Tearing off the seal, he broke off a chunk and held it out to the dog, which eagerly ate out of the palm of the padre's hand.

"What's in there?" Sheldon asked, ignoring the dog and pries entirely.

He stepped toward Penny and bent down to look inside the cupboards. Recoiling, he took a step back and cleared his throat before getting down on his knees beside her. Penny was already reaching forward, timidly stretching out her hands to the little girl who was hiding in the cupboard. The girl did nothing at first but stare at Penny with blank eyes. But the moment Penny's hand touched the girl's bare foot she drew her knobby knees up to her chest and whimpered loudly.

"We're not going to hurt you, sweetie," Penny said, placing her hands back down on her knees. She offered the little girl a smile, but the girl just continued to stare back unblinkingly.

"Just pull her out," Sheldon suggested, and Penny snapped her head back to glare at him.

"That'll traumatize her!"

Sheldon snorted humorlessly. "She's already traumatized."

Penny exhaled sharply before regaining her composure and turning to face the cupboard. "We don't need to make things worse than they are."

Sheldon shook his head and then reached back to take off his pack. Setting it down on the dusty floor, he opened it up and began to root through it until he pulled out a plastic pudding cup. He opened the lid, licking the chocolate pudding off the plastic, and held the cup out to the little girl.

"Want some chocolate pudding?"

The girl immediately shifted in her spot, blinked, and raised her chin to sniff at the air. She lowered her head and looked from Penny to Sheldon and then back to Sheldon again. Scurrying out of her hiding spot, she snatched the cup out of Sheldon's hands and scooted backward. She scooped her dirty fingers into the cup and began shoveling the pudding into her mouth, not pausing to take breaths.

"She's skin and bones," Penny observed with a sad voice. "We need to get her cleaned up and fed."

"_We_?" Sheldon raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I got her out of the cupboard. _You_ clean her."

"Fine!"

Penny gave Sheldon a dirty look before slowly crawling over to the girl and putting her hands on her fragile shoulders. The girl resisted at first, whining and drawing the pudding cup away, as though she was afraid that Penny would steal it from her. But after seeing that Penny wasn't after her food, she began to relax. The puppy took that moment to run over, excitedly waging its tail, and lick the girl's sticky fingers, causing her to smile.

"There's a pond behind the barn," Penny said, sounding tired as she rose to her feet. "We can all wash up out there. I'll take her out first."

Sheldon nodded and stood up with her. "I'll bring our bikes inside and set up a place to sleep for the night."

Penny bent down and picked up the little girl, who weighed no more than forty pounds. She was rigid at first and then settled into Penny's arms, leaning her head into the crock of the blonde's neck, smearing it with chocolate pudding.

"I wish I knew where my parents were." Penny sighed, gently rocking the child in her arms.

"We'll find them, Penny," Sheldon assured her solemnly, reaching out to place a large hand on her shoulder while glancing around the farmhouse. "We'll find out what happened here."

* * *

Once Penny began to bathe the girl, she realized that she was slightly older than she had originally estimated. Penny had assumed the girl was six years old when she was probably older, around eight or nine. She was so thin, though, that it was easy to mistake her for being much younger.

The child remained silent, even as Penny washed off all the dirt and grime, which took longer than she had expected; as a result, Penny was exhausted. Once she was done bathing and dressing the girl in one of her extra shirts, as well as making sure the girl wouldn't run away, Penny started washing herself. By the time she was done and took the child inside, Sheldon already had lunch set out on the table.

"Oh, look! There's a face underneath all that dirt," O'Connor cooed with his charming Irish accent. He reached out to tuck the girl's wavy auburn hair behind her ear. "And what a pretty face it is." He bopped her on her tiny freckled nose, and she smiled. "Do you have a name to go with that lovely face of yours?"

When the girl didn't answer, Penny knelt down beside her. "What's your name, sweetie?"

Again, there was no response. The girl merely stared at Penny until the puppy yipped and jumped up, placing its paws on her thighs.

"She appears to be mute," Sheldon observed, setting their drinks on the table.

Penny shook her head. "No, she's just traumatized."

"Exactly why she's mute," Sheldon added patronizingly, studying the girl's face. "I don't believe that she's deaf or else she would be using sign language or signals of some sort."

Penny's brow knitted into a deep V. "What do we call her, then?"

"Eve," O'Connor answered without hesitation, feeding the puppy scraps from the table.

"Eve," Penny repeated, smoothing down the girl's wet curls with a smile. "Do you like that name? Can we call you Eve?"

The girl gave Penny that unnerving, unblinking stare of hers again, and then looked up at the table where the food was set.

Sheldon snorted. "She doesn't seem to care."

O'Connor shook his head and took the girl in his arms, lifting her up onto the chair. "No, I think she does." His milky blue eyes searched her wide hazel ones. "May we call you Eve?"

The girl looked down and then back up, giving a very subtle nod.

"There you have it." O'Connor laughed and tucked her into the seat.

The priest then fetched some extra cushions for Eve to sit on so that she could reach her plate. Penny smiled and affectionately patted the girl's head before taking her own seat across from Sheldon.

"What do we call the dog?" Sheldon asked, staring down at the small thing as it wagged its tail in earnest.

"Uhm, _Dog_?" Penny offered, covering her smirk with her hand. "C'mon, Eve, let's get some food in you and put you down for a nap."

Sheldon shrugged and sat down at the table, mechanically digging into the meal while observing the dog in a curious and calculating manner.

"I was never allowed a dog as a child," he remarked absently, setting his spoon in the baked beans." My mother always assumed I would experiment on one if given the chance, like the cat ..." He paused contemplatively and then added, "And Missy's hamsters."

O'Connor looked up at Sheldon, confusion and worry evident on his face. Penny just snorted, choking on her pork and beans, and then waved her hand in a dismissive manner. Sheldon shook his head and glared at Penny, who met his eyes and only laughed harder, doubling over. Unfortunately for O'Connor, he wasn't in on the joke and could only stare at Penny in mild amusement.

"I'll take first watch," the padre said uneasily, taking a sip of his water, "after sunset."

* * *

Later that evening Penny put Eve to bed in the living room. Since her parent's place just had the root cellar and they were only staying for the night, it made sense for them all to sleep in the same area together—safety in numbers and all that. After closing the curtains and searching the spare room for clothes, Penny found some old dresses of hers and her sister's when they were little, as well as other sundries for Eve to wear. She also rummaged through her own wardrobe, grabbing fresh socks and underwear, before heading back down the stairs.

"Hey, if you guys want some new clothes, my brother's stuff should fit you—he's about as tall as you, Sheldon. My dad's stuff should fit you, Padre—"

She stopped short when she found Sheldon sitting at the table in the kitchen with a small note in his hands. She was suddenly seized with a terrible feeling of déjà vu, and her throat went dry.

"I found this," he said, waving the post-it note in the air. "It was in the trash."

Penny swallowed hard, an audible click at the back of her throat, and remembered the last time Sheldon had read a note in a kitchen much like this one.

"What is it?"

"It looks like coordinates, latitude and longitude—" Sheldon turned the paper over in his hands "—but some of it's ripped off." He pointed at the missing side of the note.

"Do you think it shows where my parents went?" Penny asked, laying her sundries on the table as she took a seat next to him.

"Possibly." Sheldon then pulled one of his maps out from underneath the pile of bras and underwear that Penny had dropped on the counter. "Let me try to determine a location and see if it's nearby."

He laid out the map on the table and did some quick mental calculations while Penny taped her foot impatiently.

"Well?" She was standing up now, hovering over the physicist.

"It's either here—" Sheldon pointed to a location on the map and then moved his finger southwest "—or here."

Penny pointed at the first marker. "That's just farmland," she said, and then drew her finger west. "But that's—that's Colorado. Is that—?"

"Colorado Springs," Sheldon said mildly, sitting back in the chair. "Cheyenne Mountain—NORAD's base of operations."

Excited, Penny clapped her hands together. "Do you think they may be there?"

"It's possible." He shrugged. "It's not that far from here and it would be a secure location. I am not certain they would allow ordinary citizens in, though."

Penny placed her hands on the back of Sheldon's chair and shook her head, her ponytail swinging like a horse's tail. "My dad's retired Air Force. He used to fly for NORAD!" She let go of the chair. "We have to head there now!"

"Now?" O'Connor asked, looking out the window at the rusty orange and pink-hued sky. "The sun is setting."

Penny stood still, lowering her head. "Okay, not now, but early tomorrow morning—at sunrise."

"Penny—"

"What, _Sheldon_?" she spat, spinning on her heel to pointing an accusing finger at his chest. "We checked on your family; now we need to check on mine!"

Sheldon stood up, pushing his thighs against the chair. Straightening his spine, he stood tall at his full height, which towered menacingly above Penny.

"I know that, Penny, but there's no guarantee that your parents will be there or if Cheyenne Mountain is even secure. And even if we're extremely fortunate in both cases, we couldn't go."

"Why not?" She folded her arms underneath her breasts and laughed bitterly. "Because we have to head _east_?"

"That, and if the government is still running there, I would be taken in." He inclined his head; his eyes searched hers for understanding. "I'm a fugitive from the government, Penny. They might kill me or force me to work for them."

"So?" She stood her ground, her chin raised defiantly. "I want to see my family!"

Sheldon brought his forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, pinching the nerve before letting out a deep sigh. When he lowered his hand his deep blue eyes had softened; the look he gave Penny could have been rated as empathy.

"I can rebuild the CB radio and increase its transmission," he offered, folding his arms down his sides. "I can try to contact NORAD and see if your parents are there."

Penny cracked her jaw, her lips set in a stubborn line. She stared at Sheldon long and hard before she uncrossed her arms and let out a soft growl of defeat.

"Where are you going to get the parts?" she asked; her voice had already lost some of its edge.

"There's a bunker in Monticello, Iowa. I can salvage equipment there."

"Fine—" she waved her hand "—_you_ go there, and _I'll_ head to Colorado Springs on my own."

"Penny—"

"Sheldon!"

The two stared each other down unflinchingly, neither willing to relent, until O'Connor stepped in between to intervene.

"Let's just sleep on it for the night," he suggested amicably, regarding Penny with gentle eyes. "Just give it one night, lass."

Penny turned back to look at Sheldon, her green eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Fine," she relented, before turning around to head into the living room. The earlier to bed, the earlier to rise. "One night and then I'm gone in the morning."

* * *

The gun felt heavy in her hands as she pointed it at his head. His face was contorted in pain, and she didn't have to wonder if this was all a dream—what else could it be? Nonetheless, she was paralyzed and she couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger. He wanted her to, he begged her to, but she just couldn't. This was _Sheldon_.

"Penny, please—"

"Goddammit, Sheldon!" Her voice trembled like the gun in her hands. "You have to get us out of this!" But it was either kill him and herself or wait until _They_ tore them all apart.

There was shouting behind her, and she turned to see two men dressed in army fatigues, guns blazing. The tall one was howling for her to get out of there before it was too late; he couldn't hold _Them_ off much longer. She looked back down at Sheldon and—oh God!—there was so much blood. It had never bothered her before, but this was Sheldon's blood. Sheldon's—

From behind, one of the demons broke through the gunfire and lunged forward. It tore open the tall man's arm (she should have known his name, shouldn't she have?), and he began to roar.

"Penny!"

How did he know her name?

"Do it now!"

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. Kill Sheldon? No—no, she was supposed to protect him, not kill him. Not kill him!

The scene blurred for a moment and then switched, like a light-switch flicked on in a dark room. Penny found herself kneeling on a familiar road. There was a strange man lying in her arms and her guns were smoking on the pavement. His blood was smeared like rust on her sleeves, and she absently wondered if the blood would come out or if it would stain her too, seeping into her flesh like ink from a tattoo. When she looked down at his face, she noted that he wasn't a man but a boy; his brown eyes were soft and gentle, comforting. Then the boy's face suddenly became Sheldon's—eyes blank and lifeless—and she let go.

Glancing up, she saw herself in the distance with another woman; they were both carrying an injured man. His leg was broken and bloodied and the demons were circling them like hungry vultures from above. More images flashed in her mind's eyes, each more vivid than the last, until she was suddenly standing alone in a desert with the ocean behind her. Her eyes traveled up to the sky. The sun was so bright that she brought a hand to her eyes to shield herself from it. But the light was too intense. When she was about to look away it dimmed for just a moment, and Penny could see a face floating above her. It was the little girl, Eve. She was holding a white dove in her hands.

"You must stay with Sheldon," her sweet voice sang, so sweet that Penny felt like falling to her knees and weeping. "You are his protector. If you were to not be by his side then—" She motioned back down to Penny's lap.

The gun—Penny's gun—was now in Sheldon's hand, aimed at his temple. He pulled the trigger and the bullet reported home, tearing through his skull as though it were tissue paper. Blood splattered everywhere and the demons rushed down upon them. Penny could only stare into his blank eyes and wait for it all to end—

Penny bolted awake, her shirt soaked through at the back with sweat. Sheldon was instantly at her side, gently shaking her shoulders.

"Penny? Penny? Penny? Are you alright?"

She caught her breath, which had been lodged in her throat, and shook her head.

"No," she sobbed, bringing a hand to her damp forehead. "No, I'm not. We have to head east."

* * *

"East," Penny repeated, gathering her new clothes into her pack. "We have to travel east."

They had all risen early at dawn, with Penny urging them to start packing at once. This was the type of behavior expected of Sheldon, not her. Aware of her sudden change in attitude from last night, Sheldon stood rigidly in the doorway; he didn't know how to react to _this_ Penny.

"Okay, but we were planning that already—"

"No, I know exactly where we have to go," Penny explained once more, exasperated. "It's just north of here outside Lyon, Iowa." She set her pack down on the table. "We have to get there before nightfall, though."

Sheldon gave her a look of pure incredulity. "Why, what is going to happen?"

"I don't know, Sheldon," Penny answered tersely, "but we have to be there."

"I'm sorry, Penny, but that's terribly vague." He was looking down his nose at her. "We have to be _there_—" he made air quotations with his fingers "—for what, exactly? Is it Tex Mex night?"

Penny growled, throwing her shirt into her pack. "Sheldon, _look_, I'm sorry that my dreams aren't as crystal clear as yours, but we're heading east now and that's all there is to it!"

She wrestled with her pack, looping her arms through the straps, and shrugged it on. Bending down, she picked up the puppy that was obediently sitting by her feet.

"Why are we bringing the dog?" Sheldon asked, annoyed with Penny's temporary attempt to usurp his leadership. "It will make too much noise."

Penny frowned, handing the puppy over to Eve. "It makes her happy," she said, placing her hand on top of the redhead's curls.

Sheldon threw up his arms in exasperation. "Great, she can be happy and we can all be dead when the Others or _They_ find us due to the creature's incessant barking." He glared contemptuously at the dog, which chose that opportunity to bark excitedly—as if to prove Sheldon's point.

"It's coming with us," Penny said behind gritted teeth, her tone brooking no reproach.

Eve held the dog in her arms with a determined look on her face while O'Connor stood beside her with his hand on the little girl's shoulder. It was three (or four) against one; Sheldon was clearly outnumbered and outvoted, and he didn't like it at all. Not one bit.

"Well," he huffed, visibly pouting, "how do you propose we carry them both?"

Penny paused on her feet, delving into the recesses of her memory. "We have a neighbor who has a special bike. I remember Mrs. Wilson always used to drive her son around in it when he was little."

Penny then raised a finger and took her pack off, dropping it on the floor before trotting out the front door.

"Stay here," she said, tying her belt and holster securely around her waist. "I'll be back in ten or fifteen minutes."

When Penny finally returned she was biking up the driveway with an odd contraption connected to her bicycle, much like a sidecar. It was one of those bike accessories that parents used for transporting younger children around.

"We can fit Eve and the dog in this," she said, putting down the kickstand as she stepped off the bike.

Sheldon nodded reluctantly, somewhat impressed. After quickly putting together their gear, everyone exited the house with Sheldon carrying the dog.

"I'm going to call him Pudding," he announced, holding the dog at eye-level. "It's a he by the looks of it—" he turned the dog on its back so that he could have a better look "—and he does like chocolate pudding."

"Pudding?" Penny repeated with a laugh, adjusting the straps on her pack.

"You object?" Sheldon asked seriously, and Penny only laughed harder.

"No, not at all," she said, shaking her head. "Why don't you put Eve and _Pudding_ in the sidecar."

* * *

They made it to the small Iowa town of Lyons just after noon, setting up a safe house as quickly as possible. Once done, Sheldon began to hound Penny, asking her what they were supposed to do next and claiming that she was unfit to lead if she had no viable plans. Penny ended up countering his argument by explaining that she always followed his plans without question and now it was his turn to sit down, shut up, and do the same. He didn't take that well. In fact, he sulked rather epically the rest of the day and pointed out that Penny was rarely silent; however, he didn't question her again.

It wasn't until an hour before sunset when they were finally given their sign: gunfire. Penny and Sheldon grabbed their weapons, telling O'Connor to hide with Eve inside, and ran outside. They waited and listened. There was no more gunfire, but there was screaming—and lots of it.

"Someone help us! Please!"

Two people came running around the corner and through the bushes—a man and a woman. The woman was holding up the man, who was limping badly, and practically dragged him forward. There was a revolver dangling uselessly in her hand. It must have been empty, which is why the gunfire had stopped.

Penny took a tentative step forward to aid them when Sheldon reached out and grabbed her by the arm.

"We don't know if this is a trick!" he hissed, but Penny shook off his hand.

"I recognize them from my dream," she said, and began running toward the couple.

At that moment, as though sensing the movement, two demons closed in from above. They circled above the trees, swooping down in a diving motion. Penny already had her guns out, firing into the air, sending one of the creatures screaming back up into the night sky. Sheldon was closely behind her with his rifle aimed upward as he followed one of the demons gliding in the air. It loomed over the spot where the injured man had fallen, watching as Penny and the other woman picked the man up and put his arms over their shoulders.

One of the beasts began to move its head back and forth, trying to determine its prey. In the distance, the second demon that Penny had shot at had returned, turning its attention on her. It streaked forward, towering above Penny as though she were a tiny sprite in its eyes. Penny took off in a direction away from the injured man and held her shotgun high. When the creature dove down toward her, she waited until it was nearly on top of her and sidestepped. The beast was lumbering too fast to stop or compensate and ended up smashing into the ground. Robbing it of the use of its limbs, Penny brought the barrel of the gun to its spine and fired. It shrieked in pain, blood splattering in her face. She leveled the gun to its flat black head and reported another bullet home, spilling its brains out onto the grass.

The second demon took that moment to attack, diving downward in a spiraling motion. Sheldon followed its descent with his gun and fired. He hit it in the throat and it jerked away from its intended meal, spinning around to attack him instead. As it snapped its maw open, Sheldon fired again, blowing half its head off. It fell to the ground in a heap, twitching and spluttering blood that gurgled in its throat, until it seized up and went still. Dead.

"Oh God," the woman sighed like a prayer, walking up to Sheldon. "We thought we were done for." She placed a shaky hand over her heart and looked back and forth from Sheldon to Penny. "Thank you—thank you so much"

"We don't have time to bury the bodies," Sheldon said, ignoring the woman and looking up at the darkening sky. "Get inside, now!"

Penny and the woman took the injured man by both arms again and carried him into the house. Sheldon immediately went about checking the explosives he had set up outside the house. After a few minutes, he came back inside and barricaded the door. He walked into the kitchen where the Penny waited with the strangers; the injured man was propped up on a chair at the table, shaking badly as blood continued to pour from his leg.

"What were you doing outside so close to sunset?" Sheldon asked the woman, before pushing her away to examine the man.

His leg was bloody and the bone was exposed. Sheldon ordered Penny to grab his first-aid kit while he took off his leather belt and placed it between the man's teeth.

"Bite on this."

The man did as asked and Sheldon swiftly twisted the stranger's leg and set it in place, ignoring his muffled cries of pain. Sheldon had learned to ignore a lot of things since going on the road with Penny, including disregarding his own phobias. Life was a whole lot more bloodier and intimate now, and he would have to evolve with this new world or be left behind with the others—dead.

"We were burying bodies we found along the highway," the man answered with a gasp after spitting out Sheldon's belt.

"Along the highway?" Penny handed Sheldon the first-aid kit while he went about constructing a makeshift splint and tourniquet.

"They were crucified," the man answered through gritted teeth. His eyes threatened to roll up into his head before Sheldon reached out and slapped him hard across the face, waking him up.

"Why—why did you take them down?" Penny asked, both confused and disturbed by the mental image. "Not that that was wrong."

"Just stupid," Sheldon added, tying the tourniquet tight.

He snapped his fingers at Penny and pointed at two thin planks of wood about a foot in length leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. She walked over to retrieve them and handed them to Sheldon, who set them down on the floor.

The woman, who hadn't left the injured man's side, had a piece of cloth in her hand and was wiping at his brow.

"There were children ..."

Both Penny and Sheldon looked up at each other and their eyes fell. A heartbeat of silence passed before the wounded man spoke up.

"We both had dreams," he said, watching Sheldon carefully tend to his leg. "They led us here to you."

Sheldon blinked, nonplussed. "Where are you from?"

The man laughed, grinning sheepishly despite the pain he was in. "Sorry. Where have my manners gone?" He held out a bloody hand. "The name's Frank Miller—no relation."

Penny glanced sideways at Sheldon, whose lip only twitched slightly at the reference, which Penny was sure had to be comic book or game-related. When Sheldon didn't hold out his hand in return, Frank dropped his, still maintaining his good-natured smile.

"I'm a grocer from just outside of Lyon."

"I'm Cecilia Ford," the woman offered, not bothering to hold out her hand. "I'm a pilot from Sioux Falls, South Dakota."

"A pilot?" Sheldon asked, his curiosity genuinely piqued.

"Yes, a bit more glamorous than a grocer," Frank admitted with a laugh, which Sheldon didn't register, but Penny smiled.

"You say you both had dreams?" Penny asked, looking back and forth between the two.

"Yes, of _him_," Cecilia said, pointing at Sheldon.

"And you," Frank added with a smile, nodding at Penny.

"Apparently Eve, Pudding, and myself didn't make a cameo," O'Connor said, coming up the stairs with Eve behind him.

"Pudding?" Frank asked, clearly confused yet also amused with such a statement.

Sheldon ignored the question but didn't allow O'Connor to answer as he took over the conversation, addressing Cecilia only.

"If we could get you a plane, could you fly it to New York?"

"Sure can," Cecilia answered with a shy smile, "but we'd have to find a regional airport."

"Right," Sheldon said, nodding. "Commercial airplanes are too loud and noticeable and you may not be equipped to fly them."

Cecilia's smile widened, ignoring his slight on her abilities. "That, and most of the airports have been destroyed."

"By what?" Penny asked, interrupting.

"Natural disasters," Cecilia offered with a shrug. "Human interference and _others_ ..." She paused thoughtfully and offered Penny a waning smile. "Well, you know how it is."

Penny nodded sadly. Yes, she did.

"We have to head to Monticello first for some equipment," Sheldon said, looking up at Penny, who smiled gratefully and put a hand on his shoulder.

He drew a map out of his back pocket and spread it across the floor. His bloody finger trailed over the paper until he found the spot.

"Ah, here—" he pointed northeast "—there's a regional airport in Dubuque."

"Sounds like a plan," Cecilia said, and Sheldon smiled proudly.

"Uh, Penny?" O'Connor called, breaking through the self-congratulation. "Would you like to give Eve a bath now?" He had Eve, who was holding onto a doll, standing in front of him.

"Sure," Penny said, walking over to the child. "I'll have to clean her downstairs. We'll all have to go down there shortly." She looked up at O'Connor. "Is Pudding in bed?"

"Yes, Mum," he replied with a mock bow. "I closed the door so that he couldn't escape and wreak havoc or make any noise." He glanced at Sheldon, who had gone back to attending Frank's leg.

"A child?" Cecilia asked with awe in her voice, stepping round the table. "You have a child? Eve?" She took a few tentative steps toward the little girl before bending down. "Hello."

Eve shyly hid behind O'Connor's leg but peeked out to look at the brunette, who offered the girl a smile.

"Come with us," Penny offered, pointing to the stairs. "I'm sure you'd like to clean up, too. The entire basement is furnished and we have one of the tubs filled up with water."

Cecilia smiled and nodded while Penny took Eve's hand and led them into the basement. When the women left, O'Connor sat down with the men at the table and took out his flask, offering a swig to Frank. The younger man gladly took it and toasted the priest before taking a sip and handing it back.

"Most of the dead bodies we found untouched on the road were children," Frank stated somberly, interrupting the silence.

"_They_ won't touch them?" Sheldon asked, his curiosity genuinely piqued.

His brow was knitted together in concentration as he held a pair of tweezers and began to pick pebbles and glass out of Frank's leg.

Frank hissed at the pain and shook his head. "No, the kids were killed by the Others or gangs." His hands tightly gripped the arms of the chair as Sheldon poured some rubbing alcohol onto the wound. "They're very special," he gasped, his eyes watering, "like you, Father."

"Faithful?" O'Connor asked, intrigued.

"Untarnished, unquestioning," Frank answered with a pained smile.

"Blind faith," Sheldon muttered, wiping the excess blood away with a damp cloth.

"Their faith is pure," O'Connor added, playing with the lid of his flask, "which would make children very powerful weapons against _Them_."

Sheldon carefully set the splints on Frank's leg and then covered it with gauze before lowering it onto a chair.

"I'll take you downstairs once I've washed up," he said with a tired sigh, rising to his feet. "We'll all stay here for the next few days to help get you set up before we leave."

With a broken leg, Frank would only slow them down or get them all killed. Instead of taking him with them, Sheldon would leave him at the house and supply him with all the food and water and weapons he would need until he could walk again. He would also try to set up security features for the house, which was well-situated and just far enough out of town and with enough foliage surrounding it to keep it partially hidden and avoided. Sheldon would also leave Frank with the dog, as it would serve as excellent companionship (and a good excuse for him to get rid of it).

"I'll leave you with one of the radios," Sheldon said, opening up a water bottle at the sink and pouring it over his bloody hands. "Once I get mine fixed in Monticello, I'll try to contact you."

"Right, boss," Frank said with a slow smile. "I'll be waiting here for you when you return."

Sheldon kept his back turned, scrubbing the blood from his stained hands. Frank really was a good-natured man, and Sheldon found himself genuinely hoping that the man would survive, however doubtful it was.

"I've been thinking—" O'Connor leaned back in his chair "—all these dreams must mean something. They must be leading us all somewhere."

"They have," Penny said from the top of the stairs, causing the men to turn in unison. "They've led you all to Sheldon."

* * *

**PRESENT: OCTOBER 20, 2017**

Penny wasn't exactly sure how long they had been walking, but Sheldon would know. He would have mentally calculated the distance, the time traveled, the descent, the ascent—everything. But the one thing Penny could be certain of herself was that they were heading down into a dark, cool area, somewhere underground—a sewer tunnel, perhaps.

Suddenly, they were jostled to a stop and their hoods were removed. Penny blinked, adjusting her eyes to the dark. She could feel Sheldon straining beside her and she glanced up at him, seeing the tendons on his neck standing out. He looked nervous, almost panicked, and that made her scared. This couldn't possibly bode well.

"Welcome, Dr. Cooper," said an older man standing in front of them. "My name is Lyndon."

He looked to be twenty years Rose's senior, and of the same complexion and likeness. Penny absently wondered if he was her father. He was obviously their group's leader. He seemed kind like her, but there was a deeper strength and stubbornness set in his dark brown eyes.

"How—"

Sheldon cut off Penny's speech with a look, and the older man laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling into deep smile lines.

"We've been expecting you for a while now," Lyndon said, putting his hand on Rose's shoulder. "You and your two friends here."

Penny glanced around. They were in a tunnel of some sort, not a sewer tunnel but a subway tunnel. But leading to where? O'Hare airport? All around them stood men and women, mostly Penny and Sheldon's age. There were no children. They were all looking at the three of them with unmasked curiosity—Eve with happiness and Sheldon with pure rapture.

"You are the one who will help us rebuild," Lyndon said, standing tall with his brown eyes fixed on Sheldon. "You will help us find the messiah."

Penny blanched. "The messiah? Sheldon?"

The older man shook his head and laughed. "No, no, _he_ is not the messiah. He will help us locate our savior."

Penny opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Sheldon was standing beside her, breathing deeply. He stared unblinkingly at the older man, who only smiled back.

"Don't you know, dear?" Lyndon looked at Penny, taking another step forward. "Your friend here is the prophet. He is the man we have all been praying for."

An unspoken tension filled the air, followed by a shroud of silence which fell thick and heavy upon the crowd. Penny glanced up at Sheldon, her eyes widening in disbelief. Sheldon was the prophet? _Sheldon_?

"Son of a bitch!"

**To Be Continued ...**

**-x-**

* * *

**Author's notes:** So ends part one of Sheldon and Penny's journey together; part two will be posted after a _brief_ hiatus, in order to get it beta'd adequately. (Try not to kill me for this; I promise it will be worth the wait.) :D


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